


DiD v. the KiSA

by Muffie



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Crossdressing, Fangirls, Fanon, Humor, M/M, Parody, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 105,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muffie/pseuds/Muffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "beautiful princess" has been sacrificed to a dragon to save the kingdom and it's up to Heero to save "her". Relena doesn't like it. Neither does the "beautiful princess". Heero doesn't care for the idea either, but, well, he did say "mission accepted". (Note: in canon, the G-Boys are 15, hence the underage warning. They do not act underage in the fic, more like frat-boys.)  There are a still GW yaoi tropes to be mocked, but after 100k words I had to give up. The Horde is relentless.  [First Posted: October 6, 2004]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Is More Important Than Wenching

**Author's Note:**

> I would warn of Relena bashing, but since I pretty much bashed everyone, what's the point? 
> 
> I put no notes with chapters. I make a lot of references to things, but I don't footnote 'em. I've always thought of that along the lines of: if you have to explain the joke, it's just not that funny.
> 
>  
> 
> [See Cover Art by Nezumi Numa](http://pics.livejournal.com/muffiewrites/pic/0000ha83)

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there were two beautiful princesses and their father. And, of course, a dragon. Dragons can usually be found where there are beautiful princesses and this story is no exception. And, naturally, where there are beautiful princesses and dragons, there are knights in shining armor to rescue them. Though, come to think of it, this particular knight would probably have preferred to dispense with the armor and just shoot the dragon, and possibly one or more of the princesses while he was at it. The dragon hasn't expressed an opinion.

.

King Howard slouched down in his throne and crossed his eyes. He was bored, bored, bored, bored. And, come to think of it, bored. He could be lying on a beach, a wrench in one hand, a wench in the other. Now _that_ was his idea of fun. Maybe, if he got her drunk enough, she'd even show him her ass. His mind started running through the various ladies in waiting that had accumulated around his daughters to pick a likely candidate. Dorothy? No, no, she was evil. She regularly dumped out the liquor cabinet and he had to keep sending G to get more. Sally? No, she some crazy ideas about a boy no one had ever heard of. It would have been nice to have a boy around the palace, so he could teach him all the best drinking songs. Zechs? No, he actually was a boy. Pretty hair, but he didn't look a thing like a girl. He didn't care for drinking songs, either. Hil—

"Sire."

King Howard glared at his advisor. "Not now, I'm busy."

G was not put off. "It is important."

" _Nothing_ is more important than wenching."

G sighed. "It's about your daughter."

"Which one?"

"The one that you sacrificed to the dragon last year."

"Oh, yeah. What about her? Did it eat her yet? She probably gave it indigestion."

"No. She's fine. The dragon threw her out of the turret last week, but she managed to hang on to the battlements and climb back up."

King Howard scratched his head. "Why does a dragon have battlements?"

G closed his eyes and refrained from smacking the king. "Remember, sire? It's keeping her in the old castle at the foot of the mountains. The one that's falling apart."

"Smart dragon," King Howard muttered.

"I'm afraid the situation has gotten dire. She may not last much longer if something isn't done."

"We sent it wenches. It didn't want wenches. How could it not want wenches? Wenches are almost as good as ale. Ale covered wenches are the best. I wonder what Dorothy would look like covered in ale."

"Sire, I have taken the liberty of letting it be known that whomever saves the princess from the dragon will have the princess's hand in marriage and half the kingdom when you die."

"Which one?"

"The one that you sacrificed to the dragon. Just think of it, you'll have a son-in-law."

King Howard brightened up. "A son. I could teach him all the best drinking songs and we could go wenching together."

"Several likely candidates have arrived, you need to greet them."

King Howard frowned thoughtfully. "Only if they like wenching."

.

_Several months later...._

.

"Sire."

King Howard snorted, slapped his lips together, slid further down into his throne, then resumed snoring.

G poked him in the ribs. "Sire!"

King Howard jerked upright. "That wasn't my hand, Dorothy!"

"Sire, we have another suitor for your daughter."

"Right. First, I want you to send the guards to Dorothy's room and have them remove all sharp objects. Maybe lock her up for a day or two."

G sighed. "Sire, your daughter."

"Which one?"

"The one you sacrificed to the dragon. Someone is here to see you about saving her."

"Did it eat her yet?"

"No, sire."

"Why not?"

G slid his fists into the sleeves of his robe so he looked more mysteriously wise and less like he wanted to smack the king. "I don't know, sire. It did toss her in the moat three times this month. She was displeased with this, but appeared unhurt."

"Why does a dragon have a moat?"

"It's keeping her in the old castle by the mountains." G closed his eyes and counted to ten.

"Smart dragon," King Howard muttered.

"Baron J has brought his son, or at least I think it's his son, to save the princess."

"J? Good man, he can hold his liquor. No taste in wenches. I wonder if he'd like Dorothy."

G stared piously at the wall behind the king and wondered if he could pad his resume enough to get a job down at the stables. At least he could put bridles on the asses there.

"Well, bring him in! And have Dorothy bring in some ale. If J likes Dorothy, he can have her."

"Sire, Dorothy is the princess's favorite lady in waiting."

"Which one?"

"The one you kept."

"Ah."

One of the castle stewards ushered the Baron and his boy into the throne room.

"J!" King Howard boomed, "come drink with me y'old bastard!"

J frowned. At least it looked like a frown, no telling with those goggles. "I don't have time for that, Howard. We've got a princess to save."

G glanced at the boy standing at attention two paces behind and one pace to the right of the Baron. The boy's eyes roved the room as if he were calculating how to take it over, but beyond that, there were no signs of life. G was reminded of the machines that Baron J liked to tinker with.

"Which one?" King Howard was asking.

G jolted back to attention. "The one you sacrificed to the dragon, sire."

"Oh." King Howard leaned back in his chair and yanked at his Hawaiian print royal robes. "It hasn't eaten her yet?"

"No, sire."

J plastered what appeared to be a semi-respectful expression on the parts of his face that showed around his goggles. "The reports I've read indicate that the beast is particularly tough. It apparently ate some of the best knights in the land. 01 can handle it, but not for a piddly half a kingdom when you die."

"Piddly!"

"We want all of it. Half when 01 successfully completes the mission and the other half when you die. If he has to, he'll marry the princess and I get whatever's left from the dragon."

"He has to marry the princess!" King Howard yelled. "That way I can teach him all the best drinking songs."

G narrowed his eyes. The boy known as 01 didn't seem remotely interested in either the kingdom, the princess, or the drinking songs.

"Deal!" J clapped his hands together and smirked.

King Howard looked suddenly panicked. "No, wait, you have to take Dorothy, too. I don't care what you do with the wench, but she goes with you."

The Princess exploded from her hiding place behind the throne in a flurry of pink, gold hair, and ear drum piercing shrieks. "Daddy! Dorothy is my best friend! You can't give her away! She is—oh my. Who is this?"

G winced, but resisted the urge to cover his ears. 01 was staring at the princess as if he'd never seen one before. If G wasn't mistaken, he didn't want to see another one again, either. The princess was staring at 01 as if she'd never seen a male before. If G wasn't mistaken, she wanted to see the rest of him, preferably collared and leashed.

"He's here to marry the princess, Princess," King Howard said kindly, patting her hand with a smile.

The princess squealed in delight. "He's perfect! Just what I've always wanted! Oh, Daddy, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"Your sister," G pointed out, before the bridal magazines started flying.

She pouted. "But I want him. Get him for me, Daddy!"

"He has to save your sister, Relena." G gave up and rubbed his temples delicately. "The dragon will probably kill her pretty soon. Once he saves her, he's duty-bound to marry her. You know, the Knight and the Damsel in Distress thing that you're always going on and on about."

"Can't we find someone else to save her?"

"I'm afraid not, we've already got a contract with the Baron."

Princess Relena glared at 01 as if this were all his fault. "He doesn't look like a Knight in Shiny Armor. He can't save her, only Knights in Shiny Armor can save princesses from dragons."

King Howard looked vaguely disturbed at this. "He doesn't look much like a knight."

J simply smiled. "01 is the perfect soldier."

Princess Relena nodded sagely. "Then he is not a knight. He cannot rescue my sister from the dragon unless he's a knight. It's simply _not_ done."

To G's dismay, King Howard was nodding. "Gotta be a Knight in Shiny Armor that saves the princess. It's in all the books, G."

"So we knight him, what's the problem?" J said. "You're the king, get out your sword."

Relena squared her shoulders and gave J her haughtiest look. "There's more to it than that. First, he must have armor. Then he has to have a horse. Since he's rescuing a princess, it must be a white stallion. And we don't have any white stallions in the country. They're all brown."

"And if not, you'll be certain they're brown by nightfall," G muttered.

Relena ignored that. "Then, of course, there is chivalry, manners, and how to behave in court. And the jousts. He simply cannot be a proper knight if he hasn't jousted. And of course, he will have a token of my favor when he jousts. He is a guest, after all." Relena beamed at 01. "I'll help with his training in all of the refinements a knight must know."

01 didn't even twitch.

King Howard beamed. "Wonderful, Princess."

G didn't buy her innocent tone a bit. "How long will this take, Relena? Your sister has been tossed in the moat three times this month. The dragon is losing patience."

"He looks quite bright, perhaps a year."

J frowned.

"I will _not_ have my sister dishonored!" Relena yelled. She pointed to 01. "Would you want a dishonored bride? I didn't think so. He is in agreement."

"He'll marry her if she's nine-hundred pounds and slept with everything between here and Crete. Twice even," J said. "Her honor is not an issue. He can't marry her if the dragon eats her."

"If the dragon eats her, he can marry me." Relena clasped her hands to her bosoms, which had begun heaving anew. "I am willing to sacrifice for my sister's honor."

King Howard scratched his head. "He can't marry you. You're betrothed."

"Daddy!"

"Well, you are. You can teach him that chivalry stuff while we find him a white stallion and some armor. Then he gets knighted if I have to do the knighting myself!" King Howard nodded once, just to show he meant business.

"You have to do the knighting yourself, you're the king," G pointed out.

"I see."

G thought that it was rather clear that he did not.

"We should take the lad wenching before he goes and slays the dragon and meets up with my daughter. Poor boy."

"Daddy, you promised that I could teach him chivalry."

"Fine, fine. G, fetch us some ale. We have to go see a man about a horse."

Relena flounced over to the boy, who seemed even less interested in chivalry than he had in kingdoms, princesses, or drinking songs. She smiled at him and delivered her best curtsey. "Hello. I'm Princess Relena."

The boy stared at her.

She smiled wider. "What's your name."

"I am 01."

"That's not a name. Haven't you got a name?"

01 shook his head.

"Heero Yuy," Baron J said. "We prefer 01."

"Well 01 is silly. Heero, my Heero," she sighed dreamily. "It's a perfect name."

Heero didn't seem to care either way.

"Go with the princess, 01."

Heero didn't take his eyes off the princess. He rather reminded G of a mouse standing before a frothy, pink cobra.

"Intelligence gathering," J added.

Heero glared.

"After that, you save the princess." J's goggles flicked in Relena's direction with pure annoyance. "The _other_ princess. And then you have to marry her before Howard changes his mind and tries to weasel out of it."

"Mission accepted."

.

_Two weeks later (and none to soon)...._

.

It was Heero's opinion that armor, no matter how shiny, was unsuitable for combat. From the available information on the subject, dragons were reported to breathe fire. The metal armor, while not highly flammable, would certainly roast him with one shot. Additionally, the armor was heavy and difficult to move in. It clanked and creaked, which made any form of stealth impossible. Data on a dragon's hearing capabilities had been unavailable, though the Princess Relena had assured him they were mostly deaf, however, he was uncertain as to the accuracy of anything Princess Relena said. Finally, it was impossible to mount the white horse that someone had managed to find. He determined that tradition was inappropriate for the mission. Baron J had readily agreed. Unfortunately, he could not simply leave the armor behind, he had to take it with him so as not to excite the Princess Relena.

Heero had developed a new, side-mission in the two weeks it had taken the king's advisor to find the horse and then scrub at the large, heart-shaped spots someone had applied to its hide with pink shoe polish—Do Not Excite Princess Relena. He'd accepted this mission when he was informed that he was not permitted to shoot her.

Despite his distaste in wearing armor that was detrimental to the mission's success, Heero stood in the courtyard, freshly knighted, and waited for the horse. G had taken it back to the stables for another scrubbing that morning. Perhaps, when he returned, someone would explain what this marry business was.

"See, Daddy!" Relena poked her father when G came back with the horse. "My Heero _can't_ go. The horse isn't white!"

"It was white, Princess," G pointed out, "until y—er, _someone_ painted it."

Heero looked at the horse and frowned. While faded pink hearts on the horse's glossy white hide had no effect on the outcome of the mission, they did make the horse look rather stupid. He reminded himself that dragons were essentially large lizards and that lizards were color blind so there would be no discernable consequences in the upcoming battle.

"Perhaps your sister will think it's romantic," Dorothy said smoothly.

Princess Relena shrieked, "Romantic! Noooooooooo! He's _my_ Heero!"

Dorothy smirked at King Howard who slouched lower into his robes.

G sighed and stared longingly toward the stables. "Relena, he's going to rescue your sister from the dragon. You don't want her to get eaten do you?"

Relena pouted. "No."

G smiled. "It threw her into the moat again just last week. Heero has to hurry if he's going to save her."

"Why does _she_ get to get saved by my Heero?"

"Because your father is marrying you off to Treize Khushrenada," Dorothy said. She tossed King Howard another evil smirk when Relena burst into tears.

"I can't even say his name!" Relena wailed.

King Howard tugged the collar of his shirt up and pulled his crown down farther onto his head.

"Enough!" Baron J snapped. "Someone help 01 onto that stupid horse!"

"It's not stupid!" Relena slapped at her eyes. "Wing is the best horse ever! Wing is Heero's horse!"

G sighed again. "Let's get him onto the horse so he can go save the princess."

King Howard looked at G suspiciously. "Which one?"

"The one you sacrificed to the dragon."

"Didn't it eat her?"

"No, sire."

"And no one has ever bothered to find out why not," Dorothy muttered. She smiled brightly at Relena. "Well, now we have the Knight in Shiny Armor and his," she gave the horse that evil smirk, " _white_ stallion off to save the day."

Relena clasped her hands to her bosom, which was heaving. Heero had been alarmed the first few times she'd done it, thinking she was hyperventilating. After repeated exposure, he decided that it wasn't life-threatening and ignored it. "Oh, how romantic!"

Romantic. Heero had already added that term to the long list of words to look up in the dictionary upon returning to base. While his two week training session with Princess Relena—a session he considered proper training should he ever be captured and tortured by a particularly sadistic enemy—had been packed full of information, it hadn't been very educational. She'd given him a list of instructions that explained chivalry; his favorites were "Die with valor, Destroy evil in all of its monstrous forms, and Exhibit self control." Some of them made no sense, such as "Never use a weapon on an opponent not equal to the attack" or "Never attack an unarmed foe." These were not what he considered an efficient means of accomplishing missions. He could not accept the mission parameters defined by the Code of Chivalry, he concluded.

Even more confusing had been Princess Relena's ongoing lectures on The Art of Courtly Love. He had asked her what love was, but the resulting answer had been incomprehensible gibberish that ended with an attempt to have him place his lips on her hand. He had not seen the purpose of such an exercise and had, instead, requested the use of a dictionary. Princess Relena had not spoken to him for several hours after that. Repeated requests for the use of a dictionary had reduced the effectiveness of the ploy. In order to successfully accomplish the Do Not Excite Princess Relena mission, he had dutifully memorized the list of instructions on the Art of Courtly Love that Princess Relena had supplied. Baron J had removed the Art of Courtly Love from the mission parameters after a mission briefing on the subject.

Relena smiled at him, apparently intending to offer the pink thing in her hand to him again. He turned away quickly, reminding himself that he was not permitted to shoot her.

While two large men-at-arms utilized a crane and hook affair to settle him on the horse, Heero permitted himself a few moments to note that once the other princess had been safely rescued and married, he wouldn't have to deal with these princess creatures and their incomprehensible notions again.

.

_Several minutes later, around the bend ...._

.

Though it had taken two people to get this armor on him, Heero hadn't thought that they would be required to remove it. He jerked at the plate on his chest, but it simply would not come off. The mail stays that held it in place groaned under the strain from the muscles Baron J had enhanced, but the stays did not break. He couldn't reach the buckles in the back, either. With a silent glare between the horse's ears, Heero put the horse into a walk and settled into the saddle to alter the mission plans.

The original plans had been to kill the dragon, then fetch the princess from the castle. No one was certain why the dragon lived in one spot and kept the princess in another, but that was the intelligence he'd been given. Killing the dragon had been defined as a requirement for the mission to succeed, however, mission parameters did not mention an actual need to kill the dragon. The mission was to rescue the princess and then marry her. The dragon had been omitted. It was assumed that the dragon would object to the rescue efforts, but no actual data had been collected on the matter. Logically, if the dragon was not present, he could reasonably collect the princess from the old castle by the mountains and simply bring her back. Mission accomplished.

Heero and Wing arrived at the old castle at the edge of the mountains a day and a half later. Most of the armor did not arrive with them. He'd managed to remove the helmet, gloves and the metal plates that had been fastened to his legs, but the chest plate and back plate still openly defied him. Losing the other pieces made it possible for him to actually get on and off the horse as bodily functions and reconnaissance needs dictated, so he wasn't as irritated as he would have been. As he settled into a secured location to observe the castle and collect intelligence, Heero decided that "romantic", whatever that was, was inefficient as a means of planning missions.


	2. Heart-Shaped Spots in Pink Shoe Polish

It took Heero two days to conclude that the dragon was not in residence and one day to verify the accuracy of the information. He had witnessed nothing to indicate that a large reptile that breathed fire was in the vicinity during the first two days. He had watched as a person in a dress had been pitched through a window and into the moat. The person had bounced out of the water and yelled through the portcullis until it opened, then disappeared back inside the castle. Based on his information, it was likely that this was the other princess. G had stated that the princess was getting tossed out of the window by the dragon. The accuracy of this information was in doubt as the individual tossing the person in the dress out of the window had human hands, arms, and face; none of which a dragon reputedly possessed.

Logically, he could wait until she was pitched out the window again, then just pluck her from the moat and ride back with her. The problem was that he didn't think he could adequately swim in the remnants of the armor and the moat was deep. That and he didn't know how long until she would be thrown out again. He had only witnessed the one incidence and there was nothing to indicated the regularity of the event. He did not want to delay the mission indefinitely.

There were indications of other people, at least two, within the castle. One of them had made a habit of throwing the alleged princess _out_ of the castle while the other person had let her back in. He hadn't seen much to support the idea of a populated castle. Generally there was more activity and noise to indicate that a castle was occupied by a population rather than a few individuals. Additionally, if he looked at the window-tossing logically, at least one person did not want the alleged princess in the castle and he might be persuaded to simply hand her over.

It would be difficult to assault the structure by himself as the armor still made too much noise and the chest plate interfered with his range of motion. While he did not doubt that he could successfully lay siege to the persons in the castle, he did not think he could breach the castle walls in the armor. Since removing it was impossible, that meant he had to find another way in. He briefly courted the idea of a ruse, perhaps a delivery-man or wandering minstrel, to get in. Baron J had fully trained him the use of deception to accomplish a mission. The problem was the armor. He couldn't think of a means of successfully explaining it away. In the end, he decided that the best available alternative was to knock on the front door and ask after the alleged princess. As far as plans went, it was nearly as bad as the parameters defined by the Princess Relena's Code of Chivalry, but it was the best he could come up with. With that aim in mind, he mounted the horse and pointed it toward the castle.

He stopped the horse in front of the portcullis. "Hail the castle!" he bellowed, as Baron J had said he should do when approaching a potential ally. It would be best if the occupants of the castle thought him an ally.

There was a flurry of motion, the sound of running feet on stones, and a boy appeared in front of the gate. He was shortish, and blonde, with big blue eyes. He wore expensive silk that had seen better days and stood with his shoulders back in a posture that indicated that he was Someone Important. Heero was forced to conclude that, despite his regal bearing and the clothing, this was not the princess. The dictionary had been adamant on that point, princesses were female.

"Er, hello," the boy said, his wide eyes going from the armor, to the bare legs, to the pink, heart-shaped splotches on the white horse.

Heero was at a loss. Conversation hadn't been a part of his training program and Baron J hadn't had much to say about what one should do in order to make an ally.

The boy with the big eyes blinked. "You're here for the," he giggled, " _princess_ , aren't you?"

"Yes. It is my mission to rescue and marry the princess."

The eyes got bigger. "You're going to _marry_ the," another giggle, " _princess_?"

"Affirmative."

The boy started laughing.

Heero frowned. He had expected armed resistance to his mission, not laughter.

The boy collapsed, leaning into the wall, still laughing. His arm slapped at something beside the portcullis, then it abruptly shot upward. He then shoved himself to his feet, clutching his middle in what appeared to be an attempt to control himself. "Come," wheezing laugh, "with me," a snorting chuckle, "please."

Heero touched his heels to Wing's sides and the horse blew snot everywhere in a long, horse sigh. The boy took a hold of the bridle and tugged him into the bailey beyond the castle walls. It was just as run-down inside as it was outside, though it presented several problems in rapid escape. At least he had been correct in one respect, this castle had few occupants.

"Trowa!" the boy yelled when the laughter had died down. "There is a knight here to rescue and," giggle, " _marry_ , the" outright laughter, " _princess_!"

Another boy, this one taller and what Heero would consider the more dangerous of the two, stepped through a doorway that led to a darkened great hall beyond. Baron J used his great hall as a war room. The one eye that Heero could see beyond the taller boy's hairstyle took in his armor and the horse. While the boy's mouth didn't move, Heero still felt as if he were being silently laughed at. He concluded that while amusement at his expense was unlikely to affect the outcome of the mission, he didn't particularly like it.

"Trowa," the big eyed boy said, "look at his horse!"

The tall boy, Trowa, looked at Heero. "Does the," the boy's lips twitched into something dangerously close to a smile, "princess know?"

"I was not informed when I was given the mission parameters." Heero's eyes narrowed as he considered this. "Is it important?"

"The," Trowa's lips twitched again, "princess might not—"

A shriek followed by a crash cut through the bailey, spooking the horse. A moment later there was an explosion of a princess-shaped whirlwind in white from a door on the ramparts. She bolted along the battlements, still shrieking at the top of her lungs. Behind her, a black-haired boy followed, threatening all manner of death in three different languages. Heero was impressed with his ingenuity and made note of several of the methods for later use.

"There's the," the big eyed boy giggled, " _princess_. Hey, Princess! Your Knight in Shiny Armor is here!"

The princess stopped dead in her tracks, jaws gaping.

The black-haired boy took the opportunity to throw her over the battlements with a deft twist of his body before he, too, turned to gape at Heero.

.

_Thirty minutes later...._

.

"I'm not going!" the princess shrieked from the depths of the castle. She sounded enough like the Princess Relena that Heero considered altering the Do Not Excite Princess Relena mission to the Do Not Excite Princesses mission.

She hadn't fallen into the moat, it turned out. With surprising strength and tenacity, she had climbed back over the battlements and snuck into the depths of the castle. The big eyed boy, who was designated Quatre, had given him an apologetic smile and bolted into the castle after her.

Feeling a bit out of his depth, Heero had jumped from the horse's back and exchanged awkward looks with Trowa.

"Welcome, Sir Knight," the black-haired boy said, emerging from the door to the war room. "I am Chang Wufei, Last of the Dragon Clan."

"I am Heero Yuy."

Wufei bowed briefly. "I understand that you're here for the princess?"

Heero nodded, once. "My mission is to rescue and marry the princess."

Wufei looked momentarily disconcerted. " _Marry_ the princess?"

"Affirmative."

"Marry him!" The princess's shriek had risen distinctly in volume. A moment later, she stormed from the war room with Quatre on her heels, shoved her sleeves up as she stomped across the bailey, and swung at him.

Heero ducked the punch easily, despite the remnants of his armor. He reminded himself that he was not permitted to shoot princesses and took a step back.

Huge, amethyst eyes the color of fresh, spring violets met his. They were brimming with emotions that inspired passion: anger, rage, fury, and indignation. Porcelain cheeks were flushed with a delicate cover of blushing pink above a generous mouth quivering with the force of roiling emotion. The gown, ripped and stained as it was, clung to the princess's body as faithfully as a lover's caress, molding to the slim hips, and sensually curved ass. A long braid, the color of warmed cinnamon and melted chocolate flowed down the princess's back, a few of the silken strands working themselves free to swirl delicately around the beautiful face and neck.

Heero noticed none of this. Neither did the others. Heero was staring at the princess as if she were a new species of stink bug. "You are not the princess."

The princess's funny colored eyes narrowed. "I am too!"

Quatre looked confused. "But you never wan—"

"I'm the fucking princess, Quatre! Goddammit! I've been the fucking princess all my life!"

Heero ignored the outburst. "The dictionary states that a princess is a female sovereign or ruler, a wife of a prince, a daughter or granddaughter of a sovereign, a female member of a royal or princely family, or a size of roofing slate, 24 inches by 14 inches. You are male, therefore you are not the princess. Please produce the princess."

Wufei appeared aghast. "How did you know? I didn't figure it out for nearly a week."

"Yeah, and you're still pissed off about that, Wuffers."

"Do not call me that!"

The not-princess grinned impishly. "Wuffee? It's okay that you kissed me, you know. I like guys."

Wufei turned an interesting shade of red. "Out! Get out!"

The not-princess ignored that. "Hey, Knight, where's the rest of your armor? Not that I have anything against spandex, but it doesn't really go with the rest of the outfit."

Heero glared. "My mission is to rescue and marry the princess. Shiny armor and a white stallion were required by the mission parameters, however, upon re-evaluation of the mission objective, I concluded that armor would be detrimental to the mission's success. I was able to remove most of the armor, but these pieces require assistance that I do not have."

The not-princess exploded into gales of merry laughter that had him doubled over.

It occurred to Heero that this was not a princess, therefore he could shoot him.

"Would you like some help?" Quatre offered.

Heero considered this. An offer of help was indicative of either a potential trap or a probable ally. The recent behavior of these individuals, while nonsensical, had not been hostile. Abruptly, he nodded. A moment later, he was surprised when Trowa slid forward and undid the buckles that kept the armor plates locked to his body. While he did not have sufficient data to predict these social situations, it logically followed that the person who offered help would be the one to give it. However, he was too relieved at being armor free to probe too deeply into the dynamic.

"I would offer you accommodations for the night," Wufei stated, "however, you must return the princess to his family immediately. I'm certain they're worried about him."

"Awww, Wu-man, that's sweet of you, but you heard the man. I'm not a girl, so I can't be the fucking princess, so he can't rescue me."

"And marry you," Quatre said, snorting back giggles.

The not-princess stuck his tongue out at Quatre. "I'm _not_ marrying him!"

Quatre laughed. "Are too!"

"I am not!"

Trowa was watching the pair, appearing faintly amused behind his deceptively placid expression. Wufei appeared to find the budding argument ludicrous. Heero agreed with him. Perhaps Chang Wufei was a useful, potential ally. He decided to test the theory. "Chang, do you have a dictionary I might use?"

Wufei's brow furrowed in confusion. "Of course. Why?"

"I require the definitions of a few words if I am to complete my mission."

Curiosity gleamed in the boy's eyes. "Perhaps I might be of assistance?"

"What is marry? I am required to marry the princess, but it was not defined by mission parameters."

"Mawage," the not-princess intoned, drawing himself fully erect like an Impressive Clergyman, "Mawage is wot bwings us togedder too-day. Mawage, that bwessed awangement, that dweam wifin a dweam...."

"Duo!" Quatre said, giggling.

Ahh, the winsome beauty's name was Duo. It was a fitting name for the gloriously maned, waif-like boy who stood in the center of a ray of sunshine as if all the angels between heaven and earth had descended to kiss the luminous glow of his perfect skin and bring a delightful sparkle to the almost eclipsing joy that was his jewel-like, amethyst eyes.

Heero was not thinking this. Neither were the others. Heero was wondering if Duo was somehow mentally deficient and how to minimize its effect the outcome of his mission.

Wufei pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut. "I see that there are more problems to getting rid of Maxwell than I thought. Perhaps it would be best if you remained here tonight so that you might understand what you're getting into. While I wish to be rid of that pest as soon as feasible, it would be an injustice to send you off to marry him without knowing what you're getting into."

"I'm not gonna marry him!" Duo crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Wufei.

"You are not the princess. My mission is to marry the princess."

Duo yanked on his braid and whirled around in a flurry of torn dress. "I am so the fucking princess! I'm the first born fucking princess! I've got the stupid fucking princess clothes and the stupid fucking princess dream bedroom set and the stupid fucking princess goddamned tiara!" Duo produced a bent tiara from the depths of the gown somewhere and brandished it at Heero as if it were a pistol.

Heero shook his head. "No, you are not. You are male. Princesses are female. The dictionary was clear on that point."

"We will discuss this inside," Wufei decided. "Barton, please see to our guest's," he frowned at the large pink heart on the horse's rump, "horse. Winner, start dinner. Maxwell, get out of my castle."

Trowa took the horse's bridle and led him off toward a low stable near the wall. Quatre smiled and trotted toward the hall. Duo stuck his tongue out at Wufei, then followed Quatre.

"Please come with me, Yuy."

Heero was given a change of clothes and a place to clean up. He considered doing a quick recon mission through the castle, to see if the princess had been stashed someplace, but there simply wasn't time before he was due in the war room. Chang Wufei had promised to explain some things to him and he decided that any data Wufei had was more important than recon. It would be simpler, in any case, to perform a more thorough examination of the premises after everyone had gone to bed.

The bathroom was a horny, rich man's fantasy playroom. It was completely at odds with the crumbling state of the rest of the castle, not to mention the simple fact that castles generally were never equipped with hot running water, jacuzzi-bathtubs built for three, and a toilet complete with working flushing mechanism. Heero thought that the amenities were odd as he stepped into the room, but he was just a soldier, what did he know about the kind of facilities castles were supposed to be equipped with?

He pulled off the tank-top and skinned out of the spandex shorts. While some might consider going commando the mark of an eternal optimist, Heero considered it a practical sort of thing. There were less clothes to wash. Mostly, though, it was because he had long ago, for whatever reason, decided that panty lines were detrimental to completing missions. He had thought up a reasonable line of logic for it, but had forgotten it. Efficiency in dressing had been a part of the syllogism, as he recalled. That and sometimes the spandex would bind up with briefs and he would end with a wedgie that distracted him sufficiently to be annoying. Boxers were out of the question as they bunched and were occasionally longer in the leg than the spandex shorts. Dropping the shorts and tank top on the floor, Heero turned on the shower, pleased to note the instant heat in the water. He stepped into the shower, past the perfectly clear, fog-resistant glass door (isn't every bathroom equipped with one?) and picked up a thin washcloth and sweet-smelling soap.

The closed and heretofore locked bathroom door slipped open slowly. Not-Princess Duo had perfected the art of breaking into the bathroom without being noticed on Wufei. His last, er, _visit_ to the bathroom with Wufei had prompted the Last of the Dragon Clan to throw him over the battlements. Again. He didn't plan on being pitched out of the castle by any one of the nearby windows and/or ramparts for this, er, _visit_ , however. He had a different mission than joining an irritable Chinese man in the bathtub. He had more important things to do.

In the shower, the drops of hot water beat down across the perfect soldier's perfect pecs, dripping over the hardened nipples and along the perfectly sculpted, washboard abs. The perfect soldier's gorgeous golden skin provided a startling contrast to the thick, rich, white lather he was slowly building along the length of one perfectly formed and exquisitely naked thigh. Fiery, burning, cobalt eyes hidden beneath silken, chocolate-sable, mink soft bangs concentrated the full power of his will in what could only be called a cleanly ardor for the deliciously sensual task of sliding the slippery soap over the heated planes of his skin, closer, ever so closer to the center of his body where his recumbent maleness awaited the gentlest of teasing touches to make it sparkly clean.

Duo noticed none of this. Neither did the others, mostly because they weren't present for the obnoxiously short, gratuitous nude scene. He hooked his fingers into Heero's discarded spandex and tank top, then slunk out of the bathroom. "Whew. And I thought it stunk when Wuffers made me clean out the stables," he muttered on his way to dinner, via the nearest window where the clothes were pitched into the moat. "Stables. Ooh. Idea!"

.

_A short while later...._

.

The mess hall was silent when Heero arrived, dressed in a borrowed, blue tank top and borrowed white jeans. Not-Princess Duo sat piously at one end of the table, an innocent, I-didn't-do-it! expression plastered on his face. For some reason, that particular expression didn't appear to be a natural one for him. The others ranged around the table, staring at Duo as if they either expected him to suddenly leap across the table and bite them or explode like a fragmentation grenade. Duo smiled at Heero when he chose a seat that afforded him the best view of all possible entrances to the room. The fine hairs on the back of Heero's neck lifted at that smile. It wasn't an evil smile that one would expect from an enemy; it was a rather welcoming smile. There was no sense in the sudden unease that filled him. Glancing around at the other occupants of the table, Heero noted that he wasn't the only one feeling a bit anxious.

"I am not hungry," Wufei abruptly announced.

Duo looked briefly hurt. "Oh c'mon, Wuffers, I didn't do anything to your food! Swear! On Deathscythe's butt even!"

"What did you do, Maxwell?"

The not-princess continued to beam innocence to all and sundry.

Wufei pushed his plate away. "We will forgo dinner," he decided. "Maxwell cannot be trusted."

Heero frowned. "Not eating is not good for maximum efficiency. For the body to maintain optimal performance levels, it must be fed nutrients at regular intervals."

"True," Quatre said thoughtfully, "but eating _anything_ when Duo has that look on his face is hazardous to your health. It does no good to have him test it first. He has a cast-iron stomach."

"Oh come _on_ guys! I didn't do anything to the food." The choir-boy expression on the not-princess's face had been replaced by annoyance. "You think I want to get tossed in the moat again? I've got three more days of no-moat and Wuffee will give me my pants back."

"Do not call me that!" Wufei snapped.

"I don't understand," Heero said.

"Princess," Trowa said, his lips twitching in that not-smile of his, "Duo doesn't have any clothes of his own except for that dress. When he bothers Wufei too much, Wufei hides all of the clothes so Duo has to wear the dress. If he can go a week without being tossed in the moat, then he gets pants again."

"It's _not_ funny!" Not-Princess Duo bellowed.

"Yes it is," Trowa said.

Heero nodded once, curtly. "That would explain why a man would choose to wear clothing that restricts combat readiness."

Duo slammed his head into the table with a long groan. "I don't _choose_ to wear this stupid dress. I'm the fucking princess with a goddamned tiara!"

Heero frowned. Not this again. "You are not the princess. Princesses are female. You are male. Therefore, you cannot be the princess."

"Maxwell is the princess, Yuy." Wufei sounded disgusted by the notion.

"That is not possible." Heero looked from the top of the not-princess's head to Wufei.

"Oh yeah, it's possible. Just as long as everyone is too stupid to figure it out." Duo threw himself backwards, to sprawl in the chair, one leg hitched up on the arm. His voice rose to imitate the irritating whine the Princess Relena was fond of indulging herself in. "Ooh, Duo, you silly girl. You're not a boy, _everyone_ knows you're a princess! You're such a beautiful, delicate girl. No, you can't learn how to fence. Girls don't fence. No, you can't have that horse, it's too dangerous. Don't be ridiculous! Girls don't wear breeches. Don't be silly, Duo, you're not a boy. Anyone with eyes can see that you're the very flower of princesshood." Duo squeezed his braid between his fists as if he were cheerfully strangling someone. "And that's just G. You should hear the shit my father says."

Heero's frown deepened. "I'm confused."

"I found it difficult to believe in the beginning as well, Yuy," Wufei said, idly twisting his chopsticks in his soba. "I thought that it was some sort of colossal joke that someone was having at my expense. I attempted to return him to his home several times, but it was difficult. Instead, I went to see King Howard, to get help in returning him. They thought that I was insane for thinking he was male, despite evidence to the contrary." Wufei blushed.

"You could have joined me, Wuffie, I wouldn't have minded a bit." Duo grinned when the blush deepened.

Wufei gave Duo a glare. "The king's advisor insisted that I marry the princess. I thought they were referring to his sister, but they wanted me to marry _him_. Once I married him, they would gladly allow him to visit, or so I was informed."

"It's true. I've been friends with the," Quatre giggled, " _princess_ for most of my life. The entire kingdom seems to think that he's a fragile, delicate damsel."

"It's a curse, I tell ya. I know I'm gorgeous, but I always thought I was a hunk, not a babe." Duo suddenly grinned. "Of course, as a princess, I ought to get to see more co—"

"Duo!" Quatre turned beet red, then grinned. "I always knew you were a flamer."

"I am not! Take it back!"

"You are, too! _Princess_!"

"I am not!"

"Says the man who owns a tiara!"

"Oh, low-blow, Q-babe, I'm _so_ gonna get you for that one."

"Enough!" Wufei slapped his open palm on the table. He turned to Heero. "While the dictionary is correct in that princesses are usually female, in this instance, Maxwell is a princess out of ignorance."

Duo sniffed. "I'm feeling insulted here, Wuff. You wanna come kiss it and make it feel better?"

"He is the princess that I am to rescue and marry?" Heero didn't think that sounded quite right.

"Yes."

"This makes no sense." Something occurred to Heero. "This is not a joke, is it?"

Wufei steepled his fingers and sighed. "No, it's not. Maxwell is one of King Howard's princesses."

Quatre giggled. "How can you say that with a straight face?"

"Wuffers has no sense of humor, Quat," the not-princess said, glaring at Wufei with a remarkable lack of humor.

Heero abruptly decided to consider this princess problem at length, later. He had other questions he wanted answered. "What is marry?"

"Mawage—"

"You did that one, Duo," Quatre said.

"I will explain this," Wufei snapped. He put a studious expression on his face. "Marry is when two people vow to unite themselves and create a familial bond between themselves and their families or clans."

"That's not it at all." Quatre gave Wufei a pitying look. "Marry is when two people who love each other promise to stay together."

"It is not!" Duo flounced in the seat. "Marriage is when two dopes get together and promise not to have any more fun until they split. No one gets to have sex either. I'm _not_ marrying him."

Trowa stood up. "I'll get the dictionary."

.

_Twenty minutes later...._

.

Four sets of eyes, well three and a half, stared him as if he had the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything riding on whatever it was he found hidden the pages of a Webster's Unabridged Dictionary. Heero had noted that the publication date was a decade previous, so the information was bound to be slightly out of date. Of course, the source itself, while reputable, wasn't as reliable as the Oxford English Dictionary that Baron J kept at home base. A brief scan of the definition of princess proved that Webster wasn't as informed as the OED. There was no mention of roofing slate.

Marry confused him. It carried more unfamiliar words that required defining. Spouse, for instance. What was a spouse? A husband? Was that the noun or verb form? Was he expected to manage and use the princess prudently? If so, how did one go about managing and using a princess, prudently or otherwise? Marriage. _That_ made sense. He was expected to contract a union to form a consensual relationship with the princess. This was a legal contract.

He peeked up at the four faces waiting for the pronouncements of wisdom the dictionary had to offer and decided to look up romantic while he had the chance. Rescuing and marrying princesses was supposed to be romantic, according to the Princess Relena. Most of the definitions dealt with the word romance, but he found two that agreed with his analysis of the term: having no basis in fact, imaginary; _and_ impractical in conception or plan, visionary. This did add a problem to the current mission, however. If rescuing and marrying a princess was romantic, and romantic was imaginary, did that mean he did not have to actually rescue and marry a princess in order to complete the mission?

"I understand marry now," he informed his audience. "It is a legal contract to form a consensual relationship."

Wufei nodded slowly. "At its basest definition, yes. There is far more to it than that, however. Particularly when marriage involves royalty."

"I was told that my mission was romantic," Heero said. "I agree."

Duo spit out his drink, choking. " _You_? Robot boy? Spandex-has-strangled-my-balls boy? _Romantic_?"

"Yes. The dictionary defines romantic is impractical. This mission is impractical."

Three and a half sets of eyes stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"The not-princess does not require rescuing. I have seen no evidence of a large, fire-breathing reptile attempting to eat him. It would have been far simpler to remove rescuing from the mission objective and contracted the consensual relationship via courier. I would have been able to remain at base and continued my training." Heero frowned. "Perhaps it was a princess who developed the mission. I have observed a high incidence of impractical planning on the part of princesses. It is odd that Baron J would permit a princess to design a mission. He is usually meticulous in his plans."

Duo got control over his gaping mouth before the others could. "Uh, yeah. Look, uh, Knight, this soldier stuff is cute and all, but can you maybe drop into the real world with the rest of us? You know, Planet Earth?"

"I have not left the planet," Heero said. "I don't understand."

Duo laughed. "Great joke, okay. Not funny anymore. Be a person, not a machine."

"I am not joking. I am a soldier. Joking compromises combat readiness."

"Come on, no one is like this _all_ the time."

Heero said nothing.

"Shit! You're like this _all_ the time?"

Heero nodded.

"Even when you have sex?"

Quatre blushed. "Duo!"

Heero shook his head. "I do not have sex. Sex requires a partner. Partners compromise combat readiness."

Duo's mouth dropped open again.

Wufei diplomatically cleared his throat. "Perhaps there might be a better way to show you what marriage entails. I have a few volumes that deal with the subject."

"No way, Wuffers!" Duo bounced to his feet. "It's Movie Night! Time to get out the chick flicks!"


	3. Mystery Science Theater GW

After an impromptu wrestling match between the not-princess and Wufei over a disk that Duo had brought from his private collection, Wufei slid a rented DVD into the player. He didn't bother explaining to Heero why a run-down old castle in the nth century had early 21st century state-of-the-art electronics. Heero didn't bother to wonder why, for that matter.

"If it were up to Duo, all we'd watch is porn," Quatre explained, settling down in a big armchair with Trowa and a large bowl of popcorn.

Duo threw himself into one corner of the couch. "Man, _Dabney Does Dallas_ is _tons_ better than that stupid movie. More educational, too."

Wufei gave Duo a death glare, then sat down in a wing chair and picked up the remote. "We are here to learn about _marriage_ , not improbable sexual escapades."

Duo tossed his right leg along the couch and picked up a bowl full of candy. "Yeah, but Dabney is hung like a horse."

Wufei gasped, the same disapproving expression on his face that Dorothy wore when she looked at King Howard. Well, perhaps not the same. There was something inimitably evil about Dorothy's disapproval, Heero had noted during the two week torture session with Princess Relena. Wufei appeared to just be shocked.

"So is Tro—er, Duo!" Quatre shot an embarrassed look at Trowa, who closed the one eye that Heero could see.

Heero frowned. "What does 'hung like a horse' mean?"

Duo gave a disgusted snort. "It means he has a big cock."

A large male chicken? What was so appealing about having a large chicken? Heero's frown deepened. "A big rooster?"

Duo snorted again, this time in laughter. "No! A big penis. C'mon Tro, whip it out and show Spandex Boy what hung like a horse is."

"Duo!" Quatre looked utterly scandalized. Trowa just appeared to be faintly amused.

"Of course," Duo said, giving Wufei and Heero a calculating look, "you know what they say about Asians. You guys should really defend your honor."

Wufei frowned. "Absolutely not, Maxwell."

"Defend my honor?" Heero was confused. Princess Relena had mentioned marrying him in place of the not-princess in order to 'defend her honor,' was it the same thing?

"Ignore him, Yuy. It's his perversion speaking," Wufei ordered.

Duo sniffed like a pampered princess. "I'll just have to assume that it's true then, Wu-man. You have a small penis."

Wufei wasn't overly impressed. "What did you tell me the other day? Oh yes, whatever cranks your tractor, Maxwell."

"Of course, it didn't look _that_ small last time I snuck into the bathroom." Duo's thoughtful tone took on an innocent, helpful cant. "Do you ever play with it, Wuffee? Poor, little guy looked so lonely. I'd be more than hap— _oh shit_!"

Wufei sprang across the coffee table like an uncoiling dragon. Duo slipped over the back of the couch, yanking his braid out of the way before Wufei could grab him, and pelted toward the door and into the empty war room, shrieking. Wufei turned the miss into an acrobatic handspring and raced after him. Shocked, Heero looked at Trowa for explanation, but he just shrugged. A few moments later the shriek abruptly ended with a loud splash.

Quatre sighed. "He's never fast enough in that dress. Don't start the movie until I let him back in."

Trowa offered Heero his almost-smile. "Duo's not that much of a slut. He just likes to annoy Wufei."

A very smug Chang Wufei ghosted into the room and settled himself in his chair.

Slut. Heero had heard that one before. Baron J said that a slut was a sexually promiscuous woman. For some reason it annoyed him to think of the not-princess as a sexually promiscuous not-princess, female or not. It was nonsense. The not-princess's sexual proclivities were unimportant to the mission. Still, Trowa was as near an ally as he'd ever had, so he would allay his fears. "Baron J said that I will marry the princess even if he weighs nine hundred pounds and has slept with everyone between here and Crete twice."

Trowa's almost-smile froze. "I, um, see. Do you always do what Baron J tells you to?"

"Affirmative. He is my commanding officer; it is my duty to follow his orders."

"What is he getting out of this, um, mission?"

"Once I have retrieved and married the not-princess, Baron J will get King Howard's kingdom, half now and half when King Howard dies."

Trowa was frowning. Almost.

"And what do you get out of this mission, Yuy?" Wufei asked.

Heero looked at Wufei. "Completion of the mission."

Quatre slipped into the room and crawled back into Trowa's lap, making himself perfectly comfortable with a wiggle of his hips.

"But—" Wufei shook his head. "Never mind, Yuy."

Heero frowned, but decided against pursuing the matter. Something told him that this wasn't a conversation he wanted to get into.

The not-princess flounced into the room, sniffing loudly and sticking his nose in the air when he pranced past Wufei. He had exchanged the wet dress in favor of a small, mostly thread-bare, bath towel that he held to his waist negligently. He was still damp, the water from the moat creating a glorious sheen on the bare skin of his chest that flickered blue in the light from the television. He looked like a male underwear model fresh from a shower. Unfortunately, he smelled like a wet dog fresh from the moat.

"Maxwell, go bathe!"

Duo flopped onto the couch, studiously unconcerned about what sorts of naughty bits such activities displayed. "I did, Wuffers. You threw me in the moat. Remember? I wanna watch the movie. Hey, Tro, did you stick in _Dabney Does Dallas_ while I distracted the prude?"

Trowa didn't reply.

Wufei threw a death glare in the not-princess's direction, then hit a button on the remote.

"Oh my fuckin' god, that's an ugly bitch!" Duo shrieked when the camera panned down from a city-scape into a car.

Heero privately agreed, but kept his mouth shut and his face impassive.

"Okay, I'm into the Greek, but the Fat and the Wedding can take a hike," Duo said. "Greek rocks! Holy shit, that sweater looks like hell on her."

Heero forced himself to concentrate on the movie. It was titled _My Big Fat Greek Wedding._ It did not sound as if it would be fruitful for intelligence gathering as neither he nor the not-princess were big, fat, or Greek. The narrator was going on and on about being Greek, married, and part of a big family. He did not see how this applied to his situation.

"If nagging was an Olympic sport, my Aunt Voula would have a gold medal!" Duo shouted. "Wuffee is Aunt Voula!" He jiggled on the couch and twisted his body in ways that would have hurt any other human being with a functional spine. "Whoa, get a load of the silicone on that chick."

"Silicone?" Heero wondered if Duo was referring to the lubricant or microchips.

"No way those tits are real."

"They might be real," Quatre offered. "She could be wearing a pushup bra. Hey, if you wore a pushup bra, you could fill out the dress better."

"I'd fill out a thong better, see?" Duo flipped the towel open to prove it. "He's not bad. He could use a better haircut. Nice smile."

Heero's eyes flicked from the towel to the screen.

"Maxwell, shut up!" Wufei didn't appear as disgruntled as he sounded.

"Duo will talk through the whole movie," Quatre explained.

"I will not! C'mon, be honest Quat, would you fuck Haircut Boy?"

Quatre snuggled into Trowa again. "No."

"Yeah, forgot, you're all wrapped up in cyclops."

"Ha ha." Quatre stuck his tongue out at Duo, then threw a pillow at him.

Duo shrieked, pointing at the screen and covering his eyes. "I could have lived my _entire_ life without seeing that!"

Privately, Heero had to agree. He had spent enough time waiting while the Princess Relena had gone through her toilette, that he'd entertained himself by wondering exactly what it was that she did when she said she was going to "pretty herself up". He hadn't been able to tell the difference between the pre-prettied-up Relena and the post-prettied-up Relena. Watching the woman on the television doing just that was rather like watching Baron J crack a smile. Scary. What on _Earth_ was she _sticking_ in her eyes?

"At least the results were worth it," Quatre said, eventually.

Duo snorted. "Anything would be an improvement."

Wufei glared at the screen. " _Onnas_."

Heero didn't even bat an eye because everyone knows that not only do you pluralize Japanese nouns by adding an -s to the end, but Chinese persons habitually speak Japanese.

Duo grinned. "Hey, Wu-babe, if you hate onnas so much, how can you be straight?"

"Shut up, Maxwell!"

"Hey, I'm just saying. You're always onna this and onna that like they were a bunch of rats gnawing on your ass, but you completely freaked out when you found out I was a guy after you kissed me. Hell, you won't even skinny dip in the moat with us."

"No one skinny dips in the moat with you, Maxwell. You're the only one stupid enough to swim in a moat full of fish with your _worm_ hanging out."

The grin on the not-princess's face gave Heero the distinctly uncomfortable sensation that Duo had done something that someone wouldn't like.

On the screen, Haircut Boy was doing a bizarre duck walk ritual in front of the window belonging to the place of business that the onna now worked for. Heero thought that this was not only ridiculous, but dangerous as Haircut Boy was not paying attention to his surroundings. Not paying attention to one's surroundings was the quickest way Heero know how to get killed. Not necessarily by a diminutive elderly woman wielding a large, white bag with a ferocity that would make a warrior proud. Heero made a note not to duck walk in front of windows in order to catch an onna's attention. If he were to be defeated in battle, it certainly wouldn't be by an old lady with a purse. Dignity wasn't mission essential, but it was preferable to the alternative.

The not-princess had bounded to his feet as soon as Haircut Boy had bumped into the old lady. "Whoohoo! You go grandma! It's Muhammad Old Lady! Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee! Kick his ass! Make him get a haircut! And he's down for the count! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new world champion!"

Finally, a metaphorical reference he actually understood. Unfortunately, it was funny and a bubble of laughter threatened to break out. Heero swallowed it and forced his expression to remain impassive, as a good soldier should. Wufei covered his mouth with his hand and pretended to glare at the screen. Trowa snorted a little, smothering it in the laughing blonde in his lap.

Duo flopped back onto the couch, frowning at Heero. "What, did your spandex strangle your sense of humor along with your dick?"

Heero glared at the screen. He might not have known exactly what a dick was, but the reference was still clear.

"I'm _not_ marrying him!" Duo glared at the television.

Heero was getting sick of hearing that. What was so wrong with him anyway? He kept his irritation from showing up on his face and impassively watched the two characters flirting behind a desk. "I will laugh when you say something that is actually funny."

The not-princess's mouth flopped open and, for once, nothing came out.

Heero decided that it was a little disturbing how satisfying that actually was. Still, he couldn't resist adding, so there would be _no_ mistake, "My _dick_ is in proper working order."

The not-princess was suddenly very interested. "No kidding? Can we have a demonstration?"

"No." Heero turned his attention to the movie and pointedly ignored Duo. He could feel the not-princess's eyes boring into him and resolved not to pay any attention to it. The movie required his concentration, anyway. He didn't completely understand all of the social dynamics involved, but he was beginning to get an understanding of marriage that made his stomach clench.

"Awww, that's so sweet, isn't it, Trowa?" Quatre smiled.

Haircut Boy, looking mostly undressed, was lounging on top of the onna and they were exchanging smiles that Heero instinctively knew were "romantic" in the romance sense, not "romantic" in the impractical sense. Princess Relena would like this movie. Heero did not. Of course, he wasn't fond of entertainment that didn't involve the use of guns.

 _I love you_ , Haircut Boy said. _And I love you_ , the onna said. Then he asked her to marry him. She said yes, and then laughed, and then cried, and then they kissed.

Heero looked around, going for casual. Quatre had the same smile on his face that Haircut Boy had and he was leaning more firmly into Trowa, if that were possible. Trowa's eye was closed, though the other might be open, and the rest of his face was hidden in Quatre's hair. Wufei was staring at the screen with a pinched look on his face, as if the entire thing annoyed the hell out of him. Duo was glaring at him, as if the marry question were entirely and purposefully Heero's fault. That was unreasonable.

"I'm _not_ marrying you," the not-princess snapped, then shoved candy into his mouth.

 _Why? Why do you love me?_ the onna whispered on-screen. _Because I came alive when I met you,_ Haircut Boy whispered back.

The not-princess's glare turned into something that belonged on a combat soldier that had just gotten a sucking chest wound from a 9 mm parabellum and he took it out on the screen. Heero frowned and turned his attention back to the screen as well. He decided that Duo with a sucking chest wound from a 9 mm parabellum was a very disagreeable idea. If he couldn't shoot the not-princess, no one else was permitted to, either.

After the onna's family tortured Haircut Boy—something Haircut Boy took with remarkably better humor than Heero himself would have done—the marry part happened. The wedding. The onna dressed up in a white gown and veil affair that vaguely resembled the tears and dirt ensemble Duo had been wearing earlier. Haircut Boy wore a suit of sorts. It was impractical for any military use, but it was far more serviceable than the dress. The onna's father led her down a long aisle surrounded by spectators and handed her off to Haircut Boy. A priest spoke for a while, and then they were led in a circle, their first steps as man and wife.

Heero watched as the family gathered in a ceremonial hall of some sort and celebrated the recent wedding while he considered this wedding thing carefully. The onna and Haircut Boy had stood in front of the priest and the gathering to become married. Marriage wasn't _just_ a legal contract. The dictionary had stated that it was a contract for a consensual relationship. Did that mean that the not-princess had to agree to marry him? If so, how would this affect the outcome of the mission? Duo had already explicitly stated that he would _not_ marry him. Five times verbally and once with a punch. This could present a problem. He would have to do more research.

Not-Princess Duo beat Wufei to the DVD player, which led to another scuffle on the floor, which led to another long and impressive listing of methods that Wufei intended to use to kill Duo. Heero diligently noted some of the more useful ones. Wufei eventually won while Duo eventually lost his towel. If Heero were any judge, he'd say the boy did it on purpose. Wufei shrieked, as the princesses were wont to do, and turned a funny shade of red before slapping Duo with his towel. He shoved himself to his feet, carefully placing one on the still-prone Duo's braid, near the head. Ignoring the yowling boy, thrashing around to get loose, Wufei leisurely swapped disks in the player, then sauntered to the chair and sat in it with all the dignity of an offended cat.

 _Sleepless in Seattle_ turned out to be another onna and Haircut Boy story. This onna was prettier, but her voice was irritating. The Princess Relena would probably sound like her when she grew up. Haircut Boy was in _dire_ need of a haircut, according to Duo, even worse than the previous Haircut Boy. The characters had names, but for some reason, Heero thought it was easier to simply call them onna and Haircut Boy. In addition to Haircut Boy, there was _Walter_. Not Walter, _Walter_. From Duo's sniggering, Heero guessed that he didn't know that "Walter" meant "warrior". There was also a deceased wife belonging to Haircut Boy, and a child.

Heero's eyes landed on the not-princess. During the Greek Wedding movie, he had alternated between wisecracks and innuendoes involving the word Greek—at least Heero thought they were innuendoes, he couldn't particularly tell because he didn't understand the Greek reference. He had only made a few comments about this Haircut Boy's hairdo and some noises over Walter's name. Quatre didn't appear to notice his friend's quiet, he was too busy making out with Trowa's neck.

"Pecs and a cute butt, huh?" Duo grinned slyly at Wufei. "Hey Wuffers, howse my butt?"

"Do _not_ call me that. Your butt is easily kicked, Maxwell."

"So you _have_ been looking at my butt!"

Wufei gave him a dirty look. "I have been trying to throw your _butt_ out of this castle for 18 months, 12 days, and 17 hours."

"I knew it! You've been looking at my butt!" Duo grinned. Wufei snarled something unprintable (even for a potentially NC-17 story) and glared at the screen.

If women were interested in pecs and a cute butt, then it followed that princesses would be as well. They _were_ supposed to be female. Heero knew he had pecs, everyone with a chest had pecs, so that was half of the problem solved. He had a butt, everyone with a lower torso had a butt. He just didn't know if it was cute. How did one gauge cuteness in a butt? How did he make his butt cute if it wasn't? He watched the not-princess out of the corner of his eyes. Duo was sucking on sort of candy thing and watching the onna and her friend watch a movie in the movie. The onna was trying to choose between Walter and Haircut Boy, whom she had never met. Of course, if she'd never met Haircut Boy, how could she judge if he had a cute butt?

Was _his_ butt cute?

He added a new parameter to the mission: find out what women want in order to marry. He watched Duo scratch his head and then eat another piece of candy. Amend the parameter: find out what not-princesses want in order to marry. He had a feeling that this wouldn't be easy.

He shifted his weight on the couch, to see if he could feel out the contours of his butt without being obvious about it.

Dammit, was his butt cute or not?


	4. Cleaning Your Gun by Candlelight

The dictionary was no help at all. It said that cute was either impertinent, dainty, or straining for effect. He had no idea how to adequately apply any of those definitions to anyone's butt, let alone his own. Heero slammed the book shut in frustration, earning a look from Trowa. They were in the war room again, all three of them ignoring the moaning and bow-chicka-wow-wow-ing coming from the television in the other room. Trowa tested the edge of his blade with his thumb, then happily went back to sharpening it. Wufei grunted to himself, then turned the page in a book.

"Oh my god!" Quatre squealed from the other room. "How did he fit that whole thing in his mouth?!"

"Talent, Quat, sheer, unadulterated talent," Duo replied smugly.

"Oh shut up, it's not like _you_ did anything."

Fit what in his mouth? Considering the "oh fuck, yeah suck it, baby" dialogue, Heero figured that he didn't particularly want to know. He knew what porn was. He'd seen the glazed, drooling faces of Baron J's troops when they watched the stuff and decided that effective soldiers did _not_ watch porn. Trowa frowned and oiled his whetstone. Wufei glowered at his book as if it had just insulted his family through the past ten generations. Heero tried to decide which one of them would be the better one to ask about the cute status of his butt.

Duo suddenly laughed, the sound bouncing through the silent war room. "He looks like a collie that just got hit by a truck when he does that!"

Quatre snorted. "Is that supposed to be orgasmic ecstasy?"

"Ooh! Oooh! Oh! Oh! Woof!" Duo proceeded to moan with enough melodrama to make a soap opera star melt with envy.

Quatre laughed and Trowa actually smiled. "Duo you freak! Knock it off. Oh my god what are you _doing_?!"

Duo started grunting, loudly.

This only made Quatre's laughter rise in volume. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Not really. It's not that hard to do if you practice and I'm kinda limber."

Heero and Trowa stared unabashedly at the wall, as if they could see through it. Even Wufei sent a guilty glance at the doorway. Whatever it was, Duo had apparently stopped doing it because the laughter died off and the moaning was replaced with badly acted dialogue about finding a good bar to pick up guys. Trowa slid the whetstone along the blade again, Wufei returned to his book, and Heero opened the dictionary to see what it had to say about orgasmic.

"Hey, Duo, how come you don't like Heero?"

Heero froze, his finger hovering over the word orchid.

"Spandex Boy?"

"Yeah. He seems kind of nice. A little weird, but nice. He reminds me of Trowa." Even Heero could pick out the smile in Quatre's voice.

Someone on the television exclaimed over the size of Dabney's love muscle. _Love muscle_?

Duo—Heero just knew it was Duo—bounced along the couch hard enough to be heard over Dabney's moaning. "Think he's hung like Tro?"

Heero made a mental note of the not-princess's interest in the size of his.... Why did he suddenly feel like _blushing_?

"Well, he does wear spandex. It wouldn't be too hard to figure it out."

"Heh. Heh. You said _hard_."

Quatre laughed again. "Hard. Hard. Hard."

Duo's laughter joined him. "Slut."

"You wish. C'mon. How come you don't like him? He's kind of cute."

Heero thought that was a bit promising. He was kind of cute, did that mean that his butt was kind of cute as well? Was it possible to go from kind of cute to all the way cute? If so, how could he apply that to his butt?

"Doesn't matter. G sent him. He probably promised half the kingdom or something." Duo sniffed. "Which is stupid, I'm first born. You marry me and you get the whole kingdom anyway. Whattaya say, wanna shack up?"

Quatre laughed again. "I like him. He's different from the others."

"Stupid, you mean. He doesn't even know what _marry_ is."

Heero glared at the dictionary.

Duo sighed loud enough to drown out the scream bouquet of "suck me" coming from the television. "Quit looking at me like that, Q. God, okay. He's not stupid."

"You like him!"

" _Quatre_! Ssshhh!"

"You do!"

"What, are we going to giggle like fangirls and moon over bishies now?"

Quatre snorted. "Touchy, touchy. Stick it back in your towel, Maxwell."

Fangirls? Bishies? Heero flipped the dictionary over to F.

"I wonder if he's gonna try to kill the dragon," Duo said. Heero couldn't tell if the not-princess was happy or disgusted by that thought.

"Hey, don't look so glum. He hasn't spouted poetic odes to your beauty and compared your eyes to glowing amethyst orbs of jeweled delight so he probably won't do something that stupid."

There was nothing in the dictionary about fangirls. He glanced at Wufei, who was attempting to pretend that he had more interest in his book than he did eavesdropping on the conversation. No, Wufei probably didn't know what a fangirl was either. Trowa had moved on to a different knife with the whetstone. He had the same sort of expression on his face as he did when he was watching Quatre. Perhaps he knew what a fangirl was.

"At least he doesn't think I'm a girl." Duo didn't sound particularly happy about that.

"I _knew_ you liked him!"

"Shut _up_!"

"Make me!"

"You asked for it Q-bert. I'm gonna toast your ass!"

"Ha! Not before I kick yours."

"No running for Trowa!" Somehow this shriek came out sounding more manly and less Princess Relena-y. It was followed by a loud thump and then the crash of something hitting the floor. Quatre bellowed like a wounded bull moose and a flurry of thumps and grunts echoed into the war room. Wufei sucked in a breath of pure disapproval, looking as if he'd just swallowed a dung beetle covered in wasabi.

Trowa genuinely smiled. "Duo is going to lose this one."

"What's a fangirl?" Heero asked, keeping his voice just as quiet.

.

_A few of hours later...._

.

Heero slipped into his room, oddly satisfied with the results of his late night reconnaissance mission. There were no other princesses in the castle, just the five of them and four horses. If he had to marry someone with all that romantic stuff those two movies implied that marry meant, the not-princess would suit him far more than a princess. At least the not-princess didn't annoy him and he threw a mean right hook. Perhaps he could even be trained to make a decent soldier. Heero could definitely manage and use a soldier prudently. The not-princess might have been skinny, but his display this evening proved that he had adequate musculature for a soldier's job. Additionally, there was the incident where he'd been thrown over the ramparts and had climbed back up, in a dress no less. Heero personally didn't know many soldiers who had the strength and tenacity to do that. Muscles were important to a soldier. Of course, this brought him back to the matter of his butt. Was it cute?

He sat down at the desk and lit the candles. It might have been considered odd by some that a castle with a jacuzzi tub for three and a home theater system didn't have electric lights in the rooms, but Heero didn't think so. He didn't notice, he was too busy piling his pistols on the desk, nevermind that there was no really logical explanation for possessing pistols in the Dark Ages. He pulled the two IMI Desert Eagle .50AEs from his bag and set them down. He opened up his cleaning kit and spread the stuff out in exact order for the most efficient use. Even though it left him feeling utterly naked, he pulled the Colt King Cobra, .357 magnum thank you very much, from its home against his lower back and set it beside the .50AEs. Just for security purposes, he yanked the .44 magnum AutoMag (Dirty Harry, as Baron J erroneously liked to call it, even though anyone with eyes could tell that Dirty Harry had used a Smith & Wesson Model 29) from a pocket in his bag and slapped the clip into it. He set it off to the side, within easy reach, though he didn't anticipate trouble. He felt that the other occupants of the castle were sufficiently friendly to be considered allies.

He popped the clips out of the .50AEs and set them safely off to the side then pulled back the slides to check the chambers. The Colt was a simpler matter, revolvers always were. He snapped the cylinder out, pushed the ejector rod, and then lined up the six little .357 magnum rounds up next to the .50AE clips like perfect soldiers. He set the revolver aside and disassembled his right hand .50AE. There was something eminently soothing about stripping a weapon down and cleaning it. The scent of gun oil had always reminded him of base, the closest thing he had to a home. It bespoke of quiet times, when one had the peace to maintain one's weapon. Picking up the wire brush, he added a couple of drops of solvent and slipped the bristles into the gas cylinder, a small hole in the butt of the slide.

He obviously had to ask someone if his butt was cute since he was unable to ascertain this on his own. Wufei seemed educated enough to be a fair judge.

Dropping the brush, he picked up the .44 AutoMag and pointed it at the door, tracking a dark shape with his ears. It froze. He identified it as the Not-Princess Duo more by the abundance of shampoo and candy smell than by the small "eep!"

"Hey, easy there, Heero," Duo said, stepping out of the shadows and putting his hands up. "I'm mostly harmless. Don't panic. I'm a frood who really knows where my towel is, please don't shoot me."

Of course he knew where his towel was, he was still wearing it. Heero narrowed his eyes dangerously. He found such expressions to be effective intimidation tactics. "What do you want?"

Duo grinned. "Talk. Just to have a little chat, you know? I figured that you might be still awake after your seriously thorough, midnight stroll through the castle anyway. I'm impressed, by the way, I didn't think to check inside of Tro's underwear drawer. I should have. Who'da thought Forelock wore stuff like _that_ under his pants? Well, other than Quat."

The unwavering, business end of the .44 AutoMag did not move its aim from the center of the not-princess's distinctly naked chest. "You like to talk," Heero observed.

"Yeah. I like talking. It's okay if you want to put the gun away, you know. I won't mind. Though, I seriously got to wonder if you're compensating for something with that thing."

Heero noticed that while the not-princess's words were missish, the tone was unwaveringly calm and so was the body. He'd seen experienced soldiers quavering in voice and deed when confronted by a cocked .44 AutoMag. The not-princess was full of surprises. He made a note to ask him what he thought of the Princess Relena's Code of Chivalry. Pointing the pistol upwards, he gently lowered the hammer with his thumb and set the pistol on the desk.

"Whatcha doing?" the not-princess asked, dragging a stool up to the corner of the desk away from the .44 AutoMag, and dropping onto it.

"I am performing preventative maintenance on my weapons."

"What?"

Heero picked up the wire brush and inserted it into the small hole of the gas cylinder again. "I'm cleaning my guns."

"Romantic," Duo muttered.

"I disagree. Maintaining my weapons is a highly practical activity."

Duo sighed loudly. "That's not what I meant."

"Hn." He set the wire brush aside and wiped out the gas cylinder with a q-tip.

"So, how long have you been a knight?"

"Five days." He soaked a q-tip with solvent and gave the gas cylinder another good swipe for good measure. He ran it through the nooks and crannies in the slide.

"Five days. Five days!" Duo moaned, covering his eyes with his braid. "Why in the hell did G send me a knight who has only been a knight for five days? The last guy had been a knight for years and years and he got eaten almost right away. Barbequed and flame-broiled with a side of french fries. His squire was from Nice. You know, he wrote sonnets to my eyes before he left. The knight not the squire. The squire spent most of the time hiding in the stable from Wuffers."

"Hn," Heero said, setting the slide aside and picking up the piston. He used a fresh q-tip soaked with solvent on it.

"Are you going to write sonnets about my eyes?"

"No."

"Why the hell not? Am I not good enough or something? I've got news for ya, buck-o, I've been one of People Magazine's top 50 most beautiful people for the last three years running. I beat out half the Victoria's Secret chicks for it, too, and I didn't have to show anyone my boxers to do it."

"What purpose would a sonnet serve?" He put the piston aside and picked up the recoil and spring rods. He checked them over carefully. They hadn't picked up any real dirt since the last cleaning, so he set them aside in favor of the long, thin barrel. He used the wire brush again, carefully checking down the barrel for burrs and dirt. It was clean, but the inside of a barrel can never be too clean.

"Purpose? It's poetry. Knights are supposed to spout poetry to princesses."

"You are not a princess."

"I am so the fucking princess!" Duo bellowed.

"You're male."

Duo grunted, curling up on himself with a disgusted expression on his face. "That doesn't mean I'm not a fucking princess."

"Yes it does." He put the barrel aside for the blocky frame. He poked at it with the brush and with q-tips. It wasn't filthy as if he'd fired the pistol, but it had picked up some dirt from the bag and holster. "Do you want me to spout poetry to you?"

"Do I look like I want you to recite poetry to me?"

Heero paused, flicking his eyes at Duo's towel. "You look like a frood who really knows where his towel is."

The not-princess's jaw dropped open again, and then he snorted on the laugh he tried to hold back. "You _do_ have a sense of humor!"

"Hn." He twisted the frame in his hands and noticed the butt of the handgrip. He wondered if the .50AE's butt was cute and if so, was his butt as cute or not as cute as the .50AE's butt. He briefly considered asking the not-princess, since it was his preferences on butt-cuteness that mattered, but decided against it. He was cleaning his gun and didn't want to be disturbed by something he wasn't sure of.

"You don't talk much."

"No." He put the frame aside and picked up the long, cylindrical bolt.

"Why does your horse have pink hearts on it? It looks like something my stupid sister would do."

"The Princess Relena did do it."

"Why?"

Heero gently swiped the bolt with solvent. "She did not want me to rescue you."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Duo sighed again, yanking on his braid. "She wanted you for herself, didn't she. She's always been the perfect fucking princess. You know that she actually _likes_ pink? How can anyone _like_ pink? When I have nightmares, they're full of pink stuff and my sister's voice. My sister's voice was designed by hell itself to torture people. She even likes the stupid princess dream bedroom set. It's got pink hearts on it. I spray painted mine."

Heero picked up his soft rag and applied a little gun oil since the bolt required a light coating. If he were held at gunpoint and forced to admit it, he would have to say that applying lubricant to his gun was he favorite activity after shooting his gun. There was something incredibly satisfying about massaging oil into the metal parts. He rolled the bolt into the cloth, gently pushing his thumbs along the length of shaft.

Duo suddenly froze next to him. "What are you doing?"

"Lubricating the bolt."

"Lu-lu—" Duo shook himself. " _Lubricating_?"

Heero frowned at the not-princess, but he wasn't paying any attention. His eyes were glued to the slow, rhythmic motions of Heero's fingers working over the bolt. "Yes. Weapons require lubrication in order to keep them in proper working order. They have several movable parts that rub and slide against each other when the weapon is fired. In order to prevent misfires or damage, the parts must be properly lubricated."

"I, uh, see." Was the not-princess blushing? Odd.

Heero inspected the bolt, then set it aside, satisfied with the light sheen of oil reflecting from the brassy surface in the candlelight. He picked up the frame, tenderly running the rag over the metal with slow, sweeping motions of his fingers. Duo sucked in a funny sounding breath, catching Heero's attention again. The not-princess was staring at Heero's fingers, his mouth a little open and his eyes wide. Deftly twisting the frame in his hands, Heero spread the oil lightly over the metal surfaces, then used his pinky or a q-tip to ease a light coating into the nooks. He inspected the frame closely, bringing it up to his face. If asked, he would have said that it was so he could check for damage more carefully, but it was mostly because he really liked the smell of freshly rubbed gun oil.

With a small, regretful sigh, he put the frame down and picked up the barrel. He liked to take his time with the barrel. Along with the gas cylinder, the barrel was the biggest potential problem for a misfire and when your life depended on your weapon being in proper working order, you took good care of it. He glanced at Duo who appeared to be very interested in the maintenance of a .50AE.

He slid a cotton pad into the eye of a barrel tool and gave it a generous supply of gun oil. He slipped the pad into the barrel and twirled it rapidly in his fingers, first with the rifling, then against it, then with it. He rocked it in and out of the barrel, plunging the tool all the way through, then pulling it almost all of the way out. He slowed the in and out, putting pressure along one side with the tool, rubbing the cotton pad along the length of the barrel's insides, nudging the ridges of the rifling. He plunged the tool back in, until the cotton almost peeked out of the other side, then pulled it back slowly, against another section of the barrel and fresh parts of the rifling.

"What part is that?" Duo whispered, licking his lips.

"The barrel."

"You're lubricating the inside of the barrel?"

"Yes. It keeps the round moving smoothly through the barrel and prevents damage to the inside."

"Oh," Duo all but moaned. "That's," he took a deep breath, "uh, interesting."

In went the tool, thrusting into the depths of the barrel only to be slowly pulled back out.

Duo squirmed a little on the stool. Heero had already noted his tendency to be in near-constant motion, so he didn't find this alarming, just different.

The tool slid all the way home again, then retreated along the length of the barrel.

Duo moaned softly, deep in his throat. He sounded almost like one of those men on the porno, only better. More real.

Heero watched Duo from the corners of his eyes. He pushed the tool through the barrel, slowly this time. Duo licked his lips. He pulled it back, just as slowly. Duo's nostrils flared. He pushed the tool through the barrel a last time, using short, jerking movements. Duo moaned again, this time a bit louder. He picked up the rag and worked the oil into the length of the barrel's shaft, feeling every bump and dip, with his fingers. Duo's mouth opened a bit and his breathing quickened. It was odd, but his fingers were quivering, just a bit, when he set the barrel aside.

Spreading the rag over his palm, he poured gun oil on it, still watching Duo watch his hands. He picked up the piston and wrapped his fingers around, in his fist. Holding one end firmly with his other hand, he twisted the piston one way, then the other, sliding it back and forth in within the confines of his hand. The not-princess seemed to find this motion incredibly fascinating. Heero added a little more wrist action, to exaggerate the twirling and the thrusting inside of his fist and was rewarded with a low groan from the not-princess. He put the piston down, a bit more unsteadily than such an activity warranted, and ignored the oil that dripped onto the desk. Heero missed the slide in his first attempt to pick it up, then slapped it into his rag and oil covered palm.

The slide was thicker and longer than the other parts were. It was squared on the bottom and slightly rounded on the top. One end was slightly curved, like a butt, and the other end flared around the opening where the barrel went. Wrapped in his oil coated fist, Heero suddenly thought that the slide was a little bit obscene. Not obscene in a Baron J in the shower obscene, but obscene in a Duo in the shower obscene. He pushed the full length of the slide through the tight cavern of his oiled fist and watched the not-princess's eyes widen. He pulled the slide back through his hand and watched Duo suck in a sharp breath. He twisted the slide in his palm, pushing it through his closed fingers, even though it was beyond all hope to give the thing an even coating of oil this way. Duo bit his bottom lip, sucking on it. _Oh_.

Duo looked up suddenly, his eyes locking on Heero's. "Do you, um, like lubricating your gun?"

Heero's glanced at the slide he was slowly working through his clenched fist, then back at the not-princess. "Yes."

Duo's eyes dilated, until the black pupil dominated. "I, uh, see," he squeaked. He dropped his gaze again, staring intently at the slide slipping in and out of Heero's fingers. "Kinda warm in here, huh?"

Warm?

"Not much of a conversationalist. Well, I can see that you're, um, _busy_ , so I'll just be coming. I mean going. That's a really, really nice, um, gun you got there."

Heero frowned. The not-princess seemed uncharacteristically nervous and his voice was unsteady. If he were warm as well, that could present a problem. "Are you well?"

Duo jerked. "What?"

"You seem to be ill." Yes, the not-princess's eyes were bright, his cheeks were flushed, and he was shivering a little.

" _What_?"

"If you are sick, you should rest."

"You just had _sex_ with your _gun_ and you're asking _me_ if _I'm_ sick?"

Heero's frown deepened. "I was cleaning my gun."

"By candlelight? With a ton of lube?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

Heero didn't know what to say to that, so he put the slide down and picked up the frame, instinctively palming the grip.

"Well, I gotta go. Glad we could have this, uh, _chat_." Duo bounced, but not as enthusiastically as he usually did, across the room to the door.

"Duo."

The not-princess paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder.

"Is my... " Heero wiped the glare off of his face before it got there. Coward. "...gun's butt cute?"


	5. Of Gun Butts and Chivalry Boys

Duo lay flopped on his back across the edge of the battlements, one of his legs dangling over the side and the dirty dress rucked up around his thighs. Had Spandex Boy _really_ asked him if he thought a _gun's butt_ was _cute_? Right after pretty much jacking off said gun in Duo's face? There was something really wrong with the way Heero cleaned his gun, something really pornographically wrong. That couldn't be safe. People got shot cleaning their guns all the time and here was the perfect soldier massaging _oil_ into the gun's long, shafty parts like he was planning on getting it off. Duo flopped around on his belly, disgruntled. He would never be able to look a pistol in the face again. The entire time he'd been fondling that gun, that really big gun, Spandex Boy hadn't cracked an expression. Just narrowed eyes and grunting. Duo could certainly be forgiven for running like hell with his tail between his legs.

"Hey, princess," Quat said, leaning against the battlements near Duo's head. "You wouldn't happen to know where Heero's clothes got off to?"

Duo gave Q his best innocent look. "Heero's clothes?"

"That's what I thought. What'd you do with 'em?"

"Why would I do anything with spandex boy's clothes?"

Quatre just gave him the Look. The one that distinctly said 'You're not fooling me one bit, Duo Maxwell, you'd better fess up before I get all Zero on your ass.' Duo preferred to think of it as saying 'You're not fooling me one bit, but if you fess up, I'll give you chocolate.' Yeah, he liked option 2 much better.

"I didn't do nothing," Duo said in his best it-hurts-my-feelings-when-you-don't-trust-me tones. Technically, that was the truth. He really didn't do nothing. He dumped them in the moat and that was not nothing. For some reason, he suddenly felt better about dealing with Heero.

The Look melted into another version, the Suspicious Look. The one that distinctly said, 'I know you did something and I _know_ I'm not going to like it, so you'd better tell me before I find out anyway. Trust me, you won't _like_ me if I find out any other way.' Duo generally preferred to think of it as saying 'Please tell me what you did, Duo, I'll giggle over it with you and then I'll bake you a big, chocolate cake with chocolate chunks and chocolate chips and chocolate chip frosting with caramel and marshmallow on top.' His stomach rumbled. Yeah, now _that_ was a threat he could seriously pay attention to. The Suspicious Look deepened, if that were even possible. "What _did_ you do?"

Uh oh. He knew _that_ tone of voice. Time for a little Escape & Evasion. E & E was his forte after all. "I went and talked to him last night, you know, man to man. See if he was serious about this whole marry thing or if G had finally cracked and was making a big joke out of my life."

If Quatre had been a spaniel, his ears would be pricked and he'd be on point. "You did? What'd he say?"

"He grunts a lot."

"You _didn't_!"

"Didn't what?" Duo groaned at the twinkle in Quat's eye. "You are _such_ a perv."

"So, did you at least find out how big his c—"

" _Quatre_!"

Mr. I-look- _soooo_ -innocent gave him a lascivious grin that he should _not_ have known how to make. Oh yeah, everyone took one look at those big blue eyes and cherubic face and thought shy, gentle virgin. The bald-faced truth was a lot scarier. And louder. Quat didn't particularly care _who_ heard what he did with Tro late at night in the bedroom. Or in the middle of the afternoon. Or the morning. Or in the kitchen. Or on the table when everyone was _supposed_ to be eating. Duo glared at his friend for all of those times that Mr. Shy-n-Virginal's kinky ways had gotten between him and dinner. And this morning's breakfast.

Quat glared back suspiciously. "What are you thinking about now, Duo Maxwell?"

"You used all of _my_ syrup on Trowa _again_. I had to use sugar and I don't like my pancakes crunchy. C'mon, Q, a man's breakfast is _sacred_."

"And you're changing the subject. Again. What happened last night if you didn't get naked and sweaty? You better tell me or I'll do something really evil."

"You already did. You used all my syrup."

"No I didn't." Q grinned. "Trowa used some of it, too."

Duo frowned because real men don't pout. "That's not the point."

"Whatever. Tell me or I'll go ask _him_."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me."

"Dickhead."

"You're up here moping, so _something_ happened."

He yanked on the end of his braid and glared at the moat hanging out about 100 meters from the bottom of his dangling foot. "He asked me if I thought if his gun's butt was cute."

"His _gun's butt_?"

"I kinda felt like that myself when he asked me. I mean, if he'd asked me about _his_ butt, that'd be different. Don't think I didn't notice that Tro's jeans are just a little tight in all the right places on Heero's ass. Howie would say that he's got an ass that just won't quit. Well, that's what he says about Dorothy's whenever he's feeling suicidal and horny all at the same time."

"So, what'd you tell him?"

"That he could have any wench in the country, so he should leave the Blonde Spawn of Satan alone before she damns him to everlasting hell."

"Duo!" Q smacked him in the head. "So, did you tell him that his gun's butt was cute?"

Duo turned beet red.

"What'd he say?"

"I, uh, didn't tell him that." How could he? If he'd said the gun's butt was cute, it would have been tantamount to throwing himself over the desk and shrieking _take me you big stud_! Spandex Boy's gun was now and forever the epitome of sexual innuendo. Of course, what _had_ come out of his mouth.... God, he was blushing even worse.

"Oh, I gotta know all about it now. You better spill your guts."

"Well, he was cleaning his gun, yanno?"

"And."

And he was jacking his gun off, if you must know. "We just talked, well, I talked and he grunted."

"I _will_ ask him."

Damn, Quat, that was even more effective than the chocolate cake threat. Duo felt the blush hit the tops of his toes. Could this _get_ any more embarrassing?

"Hello the castle!"

Saved!

"You're not off the hook, mister," Quatre warned, with a shake of the finger, then bounced off to get the door.

Duo slapped on a bright smile, but cringed inwardly. _I may run, I may hide_.... They both sounded like very good options at the moment.

.

_A little while later...._

.

Okay, someone upstairs really hated him. Absolutely and purely hated one Duo Maxwell. It was punishment for all of the sins that not only had he commited in his past lives, but everyone with similar genetic coding had done in their past lives as well. The smile on his face had frozen there three hours ago. His teeth ached from gritting them. Even his hair hurt.

"Your eyes, your beauteous wonderful eyes are like the luminescent dewy violets in the spring. They warm the pastures of my heart with the depths of their magnificence and grace. Your eyes, your beauteous wonderful eyes shine with the delicate and gentle strength of the purity of your tender heart."

Duo felt like slamming his head on the table. Across the great hall, Heero snorted. Oh, yeah, Spandex Boy just _had_ to be here to witness the humiliation. Wufei was sitting quietly at one end of the table, ostensibly there to 'chaperone', but he was just hoping to either a) pawn Duo off on the idiot knight who just showed up like he had a right to or something or b) to laugh his stuck-up Chinese head off. Again. Quatre and Trowa were pretending to be 'bodyguards' so they could watch the show, which Quat would be double sure to gloat over for days. Heero hadn't bothered with an excuse, he'd just dropped onto a stool near the door to the kitchen. God only knew what _he_ would make of this whole situation.

"Right, thanks, I feel so girlie now." Duo glowered at the smile that worked its way across the idiot knight's mouth. He should have remembered that sarcasm was lost on these losers.

"You must feel so alone and afraid, my princess. I can see the distress in your eyes, your beauteous wonderful eyes. But have no more fear, my princess, for I will save you."

Duo turned his glare on Heero whose face was actually threatening to smile. Or something. "And doesn't that just make me feel all squishy inside?"

The knight ignored the sarcasm in that, too. Instead, his eyes shone in a way that made Duo suddenly feel like he'd been slobbered on. "I had hoped that some day you might harbor tender feelings for me, my glorious princess, I had so hoped to see such tender feelings in your eyes, your beauteous wonderful eyes, but I had never thought that you might feel them so soon!"

Yeah friggin right. The knight was _not_ looking at his eyes. Or his face. In fact, Chivalry Boy had yet to remove his gaze from Duo's chest. Except when they were all standing around, then Chivalry Boy was all over the place, looking at legs and butt and everything else he could clap eyes on.

Wufei glared at the wall, his fingers curling into fists. Quatre giggled, just a little. Trowa actually moved, probably doing the almost smiling thing of his. Heero snorted again. Duo couldn't take it anymore.

"Now, Princess," Quatre said softly, "please try to calm yourself. We wouldn't want you to be overcome with," a slight snort of laughter, "tender feelings would we?"

"I'm about to be overcome with tender feelings," Duo said through clenched teeth. "All over the table even. Think _projectile_."

"This is pointless," Wufei snapped. "You have made it abundantly clear that you admire the princess's eyes. And ears. And nose. And lips. And pimples—"

" _Dimples_ ," Chivalry Boy snapped.

Wufei gave the man a quarter of a death glare. Apparently Chivalry Boy didn't rate a full death glare. "Can we dispense with the admiration and get _on_ with it?"

The knight distracted himself from Duo's bodice long enough to frown at Wufei. "I haven't yet begun to offer my love and admiration to Princess Duo. She is the embodiment of grace and beauty. Such rare flowers of femininity were meant to be adored."

Duo rolled his eyes. And not four bajillion hours ago he'd thought of this idiot as his savior. He'd _much_ rather be up on the battlements telling Quatre, in intimate detail, what had happened last night with Heero's gun. Of course, Heero was probably too oblivious to have noticed that he was even jacking off his gun's parts. He felt himself twitching all over at the thought of those fingers jacking off those gun parts. Duo suddenly turned red and shrank down on himself. And after the gun butt question what had possessed him to tell Spandex Boy—

"My beautiful flower!" the knight exclaimed. "Such a delicate rose on your cheeks. Dare I hope that it is my ardent love for you that has caused such a blossom on your beautiful face?"

Duo shot to his feet. The nice thing about dresses is that they were useful in covering anything untoward in the lower abdominal area. "I should probably go to the little princess's room. Go ahead and ardent love and stuff without me."

Moving slowly, less for dignity than to make sure more leg didn't show than was absolutely necessary, Duo beat an ignominious retreat for the kitchen. Experience told him that there was only one way to satisfactorily live through conversation with these Chivalry Boys and that was to start tweaking on sugar and/or caffeine. Especially if they'd been through the Princess Relena Weekend Seminar On Wooing My Sister, only $299.95 and you too can be half-king of the Sweeper Kingdom. He could always tell when they'd been through that. "Your beauteous wonderful eyes." She was actually proud of coming up with that herself. Thank fucking god for sugar.

He'd gotten through half a case of Mountain Dew and a quart of Death by Chocolate ice cream with milk chocolate Magic Shell when Quat stomped into the kitchen. "This one is a real loser."

Duo sucked down another half can of Mountain Dew and thought about staggering to the bathroom to relieve a little pressure. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. He's really disappointed about the size of your chest."

"I am too. Maybe I should do pushups." He sucked down the rest of the Dew. "I'm in caffeine nirvana."

"He likes your ass, though."

Duo belched and reached for another Dew. "Who the hell cares. He just wants to marry me 'cause I'm the fucking princess."

Quatre grinned slyly. "Heero seemed upset when he complained about your lack of a rack."

He didn't perk up, nope, not him. Not one little eensy teensy tiny bit. He was Mr. Casual. He was cool. He was so cool he was disinterested. "Really?"

"You like him! You like Heero!"

Duo glared at Quatre. "You rat fink. You made that up."

"Well, yeah. Sir Bonneville went off to check on his horse or something while you 'prettied yourself up'. He got a little pissy when we all started laughing."

Duo jiggled his braid and bounced onto his left foot. He tried to give Quat his absolute best Shinigami is gonna get ya glare, but he could pretty much tell that it didn't work. "Bonneville? He's named after a _Buick_? Could this guy just get any worse?"

"A Buick? I thought Bonnevilles were Fords."

Duo scratched his head and frowned. "No, they weren't Fords. Ford had the Crown Victoria. You know the cop cars and stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Bonnevilles were made by Pontiac," Heero said from the doorway. He glared at Duo as if it were personally Duo's responsibility to know the exact make and model of every vehicle ever created and couldn't believe that Duo had failed at something so simple. "Buick had the Regal."

Duo sniffed. "Personally, I prefer the Shelby Cobra."

That seemed to earn him a ghost of a smile from Heero. "Good car. I'm into the 'Hemi 'Cuda."

"Ooooh, what year?"

"1969."

Quat groaned. "You guys do realize that late twentieth century cars are either obsolete or they haven't been invented yet, right?"

Duo and Heero gave him the twin glares of death. "We _always_ like late twentieth century cars, or late twentieth century music, late twentieth century clothes, or late twentieth century movies, Quat, where the hell have you been?"

"I think I was fighting a war somewhere around the late AC190s, but I'm not sure...."

Duo shrugged and tossed back some Mountain Dew. "Yeah, yeah, Q-man, next thing you'll be telling me that you've never heard of a gundam."

Quat blinked. "A what?"

"Gundam! You know, the white thing in the stable with pink hearts on its ass?"

"I thought that was a horse."

"Horse, gundam, same difference."

Heero grunted. Which could mean anything, but Duo abruptly decided that it was his version of girlish giggle. Hell, a guy had to get his entertainment _somewhere_.

"Duo."

Duo downed the last of the Dew. "Hee-man," he said in his best me-Cronk-you-Gronk-wanna-fuck? neanderthal voice. Then he added in a few macho grunts for good measure.

Heero frowned, slightly. "Even if you want me to spout that... _poetry_ that knight was spouting at you, I'm not doing it."

"If you do, I'm going to shoot you with your own coc—um, gun."

"Good." Heero's frown melted into a decidedly Duo-like smirk. "I'll be performing preventative maintenance to my other weapon at twenty-two hundred hours."

Duo's mouth flopped open. He turned red all the way to the ends of his hair. Him! Duo Maxwell the boldest, brashest cowpoke this side of the Big Muddy. Whatever that meant. The kitchen floor just needed to open itself right on up and suck him down into the pits of holy embarrassment right that instant. Before he could gather enough wits to make any kind of retort, let alone a witty one, Mr. Heero Yuy and his perfect ass sauntered back into the great hall.

"What was that about?" Quatre asked, mystified.

Impossibly, Duo's blush went super-nova. "He's going to be jacking o—uh, cleaning his gun."

" _Jacking off_? And he just invited you?"

"No! He's going to be cleaning his gun." Duo pulled on his braid and glowered. "With lots and lots of lube. Probably by candlelight."

"It's usually better with lots and lots of lube, that way it doesn't hurt," Quat said sagely. "Syrup doesn't make good lube, just so you know. Too sticky."

Duo put a little extra Wufei into his death glare so Quat would know he meant business. "It's _not_ like that!"

Q smiled that evil little smile. "Not like what?"

"That!"

"That what?"

"Sex! It's not like sex."

Quatre leaned against the counter and lifted an eyebrow. Dammit, how did he _do_ that? "Then what is it like?"

"He's going to be cleaning his gun. Like, with gun oil and gun parts and stuff."

"You said he's jacking off."

Duo jerked on his braid again and chewed on his bottom lip. "Not really. It just looks like he's jacking his gun off when he cleans it. You know, oils the parts, slides 'em through his fist and stuff."

Quat had the gall to look disgusted. "Is that all? Jeez, Duo, I thought you were the porno king, too." The disgusted look shifted abruptly to a sly grin. "Of course, I get horny watching Trowa take care of his weapons, too. I guess that means you _like_ like him."

"I do not!"

"My lady doth protest too much." Q chortled like an evil Arabian leprechaun, then sidled out of the kitchen.

Duo was about to follow when he caught the sound of Chivalry Boy regaling whoever wasn't fast enough to get away with tales of his heroic knightly deeds. Duo shuddered. Nothing quite like relived and creatively edited jousting matches to make him want to throw the heck up. Just once he'd like to meet one of these Chivalry Boys who started out a jousting story with, "Oh yeah, I remember that time I _lost_...." He was about to make a hasty retreat the better part of valor via the back way out when Heero's face popped around the doorframe and his gundamanium grip started grinding the bones in Duo's wrist into mush. "If I have to, _you_ have to." And then he was jerked into the great hall and propelled toward the table. He tripped over the hem of the stupid dress and heard something rip when he hit the floor. Shit!

Chivalry Boy was suddenly there, hauling Duo to his feet. With his nose shoved against a not-quite-so-lean, somewhat hard chest, he was having trouble getting his wind back. He pushed against that chest, half-heartedly shoving back while trying to suck in some oxygen. Chivalry Boy's hands went from his lower back to his butt, squeezing the cheeks as if they were cantaloupes to be tested for ripeness. Before Duo could brush off the shock to give that jerk a holy whatfor, he was dropped onto his feet and Chivalry Boy had backed out of punching range. He backed another step, his eyes moving down Duo's body, before hitting mid-thigh with hawk-like intensity. Duo looked down. Shit!

Well, it's not that he wasn't unhappy that the dress was ruined; he generally enjoyed ruining dresses with as much lusty gusto as he enjoyed eating pizza. There's nothing quite so satisfying as turning an exquisite feminine gown into something worthy of lining the hunting dog's kennel in ten minutes or less. Rips were one of his favorite ways to accessorize. The problem was that another inch or two of rip and Chivalry Boy would have an eyeful of wedding tackle that didn't belong on a princess. While such an occurrence might serve to run Chivalry Boy off, Duo doubted it. This particular model of Chivalry Boy looked like the kind of slimy freak who would get off on having a crossdressing fucking princess and there was no way in _hell_ he'd wear a dress on purpose; particularly not to get a freakjob like that off.

Speaking of hentai Chivalry Boys, this one had a slow grin working its way across his mouth. It was enough to make Duo shudder and clutch the ripped skirt together. "I've been slimed!"

Wufei, who was doing an admirable job of not giggling, pinched his grinning lips together in what was supposed to be a thoughtful frown, but failed miserably. "Slimed?"

Chivalry Boy licked his lips.

"Argh!" Duo whirled on Heero, jabbing his finger in Spandex Boy's direction. "I'm outta here. If you try and stop me, I'm gonna shoot you with your own cock!" Then he made as hasty a retreat as possible, utilizing every bit of cover to keep Chivalry Boy's eyes off of his ass.

"Cock?" Heero asked.

"I think he means your gun," Quatre said around giggles. "He's obsessed."

Trowa actually smiled. "It means he likes you."

Duo let out a shriek that Relena would envy, and silently promised retribution on the people who were _supposed_ to be on _his_ side.

.

_A short while later...._

.

Duo was crouched up in the battlements again, this time with his back wedged in the corner of the ramparts and the guard shack for protection. He hadn't managed to get his hands on a gun—Wufei was entirely too paranoid and that one little _incident_ wasn't entirely Duo's fault dammit—but he did have several knives, including a particularly nasty one filched from Trowa while he'd been otherwise occupied with a little tonsil hockey, and a generous plate of food from the kitchen. Last he checked, everyone was in the great hall, swapping manly man stories or, in Heero's case, plotting how to pull off his mission. Except Chivalry Boy. It had taken all of his stealth—which was damned hard to do in a white dress no matter how dirty it was—to find that jerk without getting caught. Chivalry Boy'd been "prettying himself up" and wasn't that just something that would feature in some of his more gore-filled nightmares.

"There you are, my princess." Speak of the devil and he comes to tapdance on your grave.

Duo put the cheese sandwich down and wrapped his fingers around Trowa's knife.

Chivalry Boy leaned against the outer wall a few feet away, arranging himself into an attractive pose. "I'll be off to kill the dragon for you in the morning."

Duo smirked. "Don't forget to bring ketchup."

"Ketchup?"

"Yeah, the dragon likes fried knight with ketchup."

Chivalry Boy just smirked. "I think I have a better chance at killing the beast than that. It's customary for a princess to send her champion off to battle with a favor."

"I've got a cheese sandwich or a pickle. Take your pick."

"The Princess Relena told me that you were a gentle, shy, romantic girl with delicate sensibilities."

"My sister thinks that Dorothy is teaching Howie how to train horses when she dresses up in a chain mail corset and takes her handcuffs and riding crop into his royal chambers, too," Duo muttered.

Chivalry Boy's smirk turned just a bit more chilling. "Princess Relena's wrong, isn't she? You're more, shall we say, _worldly_."

Duo exploded to his feet, both hands curling into furious fists at his sides. "Are you calling me a slut?!"

"Only if I'm a really lucky man," Chivalry Boy said, pouncing.

Duo was suddenly trapped against the outer wall of the battlements, awash in the scent of cheap cologne and toothpaste, with Chivalry Boy's body pressing firmly enough for him to get a really good idea about what was meant by the word 'lucky'. A moment later, Chivalry Boy was humping against his hip like an overgrown Chihuahua. "Ewww!"

"Release the not-princess," a steely voice commanded. Heero!

Anyone who might have had the chance to look at Duo's face in the moment when he realized that his savior from what inevitably would become a long and arduous rape suffered at the hands of the vile and slightly greasy Chivalry Boy, would have seen jeweled amethyst eyes widening in realization that Heero had arrived. His knight in shining armor had come to rip the offending brute of a man from his delicate, if lithe and strong body, and to prove once and for all the strength of passionate devotion by possessively wiping the castle floor with the would-be rapist's face. After jealously proclaiming to one and all what, exactly, would most painfully happen to anyone who had the ignorant audacity to touch Heero's beloved fucking princess, Heero would whisk him away to Heero's bower of satin linens in the privacy of his room to soothe away the trauma of the vicious beast's attempt to pluck Duo's lovely body into base obscenity with ardent adoration, tender kisses, and heartfelt proclamations of his eternal love for his violet eyed beauty. Of course, someone neglected to mention this to Duo.

With his eyes actually widening in the dawning of the twin horrors that Chivalry Boy actually thought he was man enough to get some of the uber gorgeous Duo Maxwell and that Spandex Boy _still_ hadn't figured out that he was the fucking princess, Duo lifted his legs and let himself drop out of Chivalry Boy's hump-a-thon. Landing in a comfortable crouch, he smashed the heel of his right hand into Chivalry Boy's happy humping hose. Chivalry Boy squawked, staggering to the side. Before Heero could smash his own fist into one or more parts of Chivalry Boy's person, Duo kicked out with his right leg, caught Heero in the back of the knee, and brought him down, flat on his seriously gorgeous ass. Duo might be the fucking princess, but he was the kick ass fucking princess, goddammit, and Heero had better figure that out if he knew what was good for him. Leaping to his feet before Heero could get up, Duo put Wufei's practical Toss-Maxwell-Over-the-Parapet lessons to good use on Chivalry Boy.

"You fucking loser!" Duo bellowed, leaning dangerously over the battlements. "No one messes with Shinigami! I'll kick your fucking ass if you ever touch me again!"

Heero looked over the battlements to watch the knight surface in the moat and dog paddle toward the inner edge. Duo leaped on top of the battlements, doing something that looked like a stripper's version of an American (naturally) football touchdown victory dance, complete with chant. "Uh huh, oh yeah, who's the masta? I said who is the masta?!"

Heero didn't spare him a glance, too busy staring down at the top of Chivalry Boy's head. "What?"

"You're _s'posed_ to say Sho 'Nuff. I say Who's da masta, you say Sho 'Nuff. Jeez, where's Q-ball when you need him."

"That's my shirt."

"What?"

Heero glared, first at the green cloth laying on a sprawled, choking Chivalry Boy, then at Duo. "Why was my shirt in the moat?"

"Uh," Duo sidled subtly out of reach. "It was, um, dirty?"

"And my shorts?"

Duo grinned as disarmingly as he knew how. Dammit, he should have paid _a lot_ more attention to how Q made those puppy dog faces at Trowa. "They were dirty, too? Oh _shit_!" In flash of dirty, ripped skirt, Duo leaped to the gangway and raced for safety with Heero's bellow chasing him.

" _Baka_!"


	6. Revenge of the Happy Humping Hamster

"You are certain you wish to go through with this madness, Yuy?" Wufei asked with what could only be called abject delight. Heero knew that it was only Wufei's sense of honor that had him asking this question rather than loading Duo on the nearest horse and shipping him off immediately.

"Affirmative."

"Very well. I will slip a sedative into Maxwell's breakfast. We should have him tied up and ready to go shortly thereafter. I would not suggest that you untie him until you've returned to King Howard and possibly until after the wedding. Maxwell is...uncooperative."

Heero frowned. "That will be unnecessary. I am capable of handing one baka."

Wufei snorted rudely. "If you insist."

"We leave tomorrow morning, after that knight has gone." Heero decidedly did _not_ like that knight.

"Do you plan on informing Sir Bonneville of your intentions toward Maxwell?"

"Negative. He is immaterial."

Wufei grunted. His eyes flicked toward the ceiling where the bathroom was, where hopefully Duo wasn't doing anything he shouldn't be doing, then he fixed his glare on Heero. "Maxwell has been asking for a gun or a crossbow to defend himself with. Whatever you do, do _not_ give Maxwell a weapon. He's bad enough when he's not lethally armed. I fear for all our safety if he has a pistol."

Heero frowned. "Why would the not-princess want a weapon?"

"Apparently he believes that Sir Bonneville will attempt something on him tonight. I have no idea why, Maxwell is the most annoying person here."

"Hn." Heero didn't think that the knight would try anything, other than perhaps to go home. He'd seen that particularly vicious blow to the man's genitals and had been suitably impressed. Rather than using the closed fist, which would have sufficed, the not-princess had chosen a most effective method for delivering a hit. He'd driven the hard, bony heel of his palm directly into the knight's balls. Even trained soldiers threw fisted punches, he'd noted, which were substandard because the very mobile wrist joint was behind the fist, with a pivot point removing some of the power in the blow by acting both as a bit of a shock absorber and a bit as an unstable point. No, the heel of the hand was the best for the situation because the joint was fully flexed for no give and the solid bones in the forearm held little absorption for the blow. That knight hadn't been able to walk straight for a while, which told Heero that the not-princess also had fine form in the delivery as well as the means.

Yes, Duo was turning out to be his kind of princess.

Of course, that knight was something of a problem. Heero furrowed his brow and considered it carefully. While mission parameters made no mention about protocol for dealing with others attempting to rescue the not-princess, he didn't think they fit in with the overall mission objective. After all, he couldn't very well rescue and marry Duo if someone else did it first. Though, it would be reasonable to assume, based on the not-princess's reaction to being manhandled by the knight, that should the knight somehow manage to rescue Duo without Heero doing so first, it was highly unlikely that Duo would agree to marry the knight. You just don't form consensual relationships with people you punch in the balls. At least he didn't think people did that. What if the knight had a cute butt? He did have pecs and they appeared to be in proper working condition.

Bothered by that train of thought, Heero's glower deepened. No. He could not permit the not-princess to view the knight's butt on the slim possibility that it was cute enough to sway Duo's opinion on the knight. He didn't consider himself an expert on male beauty since he had no use for such frivolities, but now that he thought about it, the knight was on the attractive side. He was one of those tall, heavily muscled nordic persons he occasionally saw, mostly naked, on the covers of romance novels that Baron J read when he thought no one was looking. While he personally found the knight somewhat weak in appearance, he was aware that women liked that sort of physique. They must, he was featured on the cover of a literary genre that catered to a strongly female market. Now that he'd thought about it, he'd never noted a person that resembled himself on any of the hundreds of romance novels Baron J kept stashed in a large, cardboard box marked "uranium 214, keep out". Did this mean that he was not aesthetically pleasing to the female market? He didn't know and that irritated him, almost as much as it irritated him that he couldn't tell if his own butt was cute.

Something bit at him, a fact or two that had been dismissed as unimportant, but perhaps wasn't. His glare turned positively blistering when he shuffled the information into the forefront of his brain. The Princess Relena's Art of Courtly Love that he'd dutifully memorized and had subsequently been unable to data dump despite best efforts had mentioned something at the very end that might apply to his situation. "Nothing forbids one woman being loved by two men or one man by two women." At the time, he hadn't understood any of it. Love was an abstract term that the dictionary couldn't satisfactorily define. However, after the intelligence gathered from viewing films last night, Heero had a working definition for the concept. If this Art of Courtly Love was correct, then it was feasible for Duo to be involved in this love business with Heero _and_ the knight at the same time. Unacceptable.

"Yuy, please do not crush my table. These things are difficult to replace."

Startled, Heero relaxed his grip on the edge of the table. "My apologies, Chang."

Wufei frowned. "What has you upset?"

Heero glared and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Sir Bonneville."

Wufei tapped his chin with a finger and watched Heero thoughtfully. "I thought he was immaterial."

Heero turned the glare on Wufei. "New information has come to light. I must act on it immediately."

"New information?"

That did sound somewhat silly, considering that he hadn't done anything but glare at the table for the last fifteen minutes. The thought of discussing the Art of Courtly Love and that knight's butt with Wufei left a sour taste in his mouth. "It's need-to-know."

Wufei matched him glare for glare. "You have already agreed to take Maxwell away. You cannot change your mind now."

"That is not the issue, Chang. I suggest that you do not interfere."

Wufei growled under his breath, but did not rise to meet the challenge. Satisfied, Heero stalked from the war room.

He found Sir Bonneville on the ramparts, leaning over the battlements and studying the mountains in the moonlight. A quick check proved that the knight was alone on the gangway and that no one was in the bailey below. Heero wasn't sure what he intended to do to the knight just yet. He did not know how to make a man's butt un-cute without cutting it off, which would take too long and was bound to be noticed. He grunted in frustration.

Sir Bonneville immediately stood, cocking a hip, crossing his arms over his chest, and staring moodily at the mountains as if he were plotting how to get Hannibal across the Pyrenees without proper armored personnel carriers. After a moment's contemplation, he turned to Heero with a smile on his face. "Princess, it's—oh, it's _you_."

Heero frowned.

"Did the Princess send you, boy? What's the message?"

Heero wiped all expression off his face, slipping comfortably into mission mode. "No message," he said softly.

The knight turned to the mountains again. "Then go away. I'm expecting company."

Heero cracked his knuckles, a slow grin spreading on his lips despite his best efforts to stop it.

.

_A minute later...._

.

Heero inspected his knuckles as he made his way into the castle. They weren't even bruised. "That didn't take long."

Sir Bonneville, had he been conscious, would have disagreed. It had been the most notably longest 45 seconds of his life.

Heero stopped in the bathroom long enough to wash blood and knight bits from his hands. He didn't know if he'd been successful at de-cute-izing that knight's butt, but careful, repeated application of steel toed sneakers certainly couldn't hurt the process. "Never use a weapon on an opponent not equal to the attack." Heero snorted in disgust. If he followed the Princess Relena's Code of Chivalry, he'd never get to punch anyone.

He had just dried his hands on a towel and was heading for his room when a shriek of laughter followed by an extremely irate "It's not that goddamned funny!" pierced the air. The laughter, which came from Quatre, was undaunted. Curious, Heero followed the sound down into the entertainment room. The not-princess was sitting slouched on the back of the couch, his spread feet planted in the cushions, glaring instant death at a his friend, who had fallen from Trowa's lap and was curled up on the floor in what appeared to be a fit of painfully uncontrollable laughter. What made Heero do a bit of a double take was Trowa. He was chuckling and not bothering to hide it.

Duo jerked on his braid. "Dammit Quatre! _Quit laughing_!"

Quatre said something that sounded vaguely like "I can't" in the middle of his laughter.

"C'mon Tro, sit on your boyfriend or something. This is totally humiliating."

"I don't think so, Duo. I like listening Quatre laugh."

"Gah."

Trowa's chuckle deepened. "That's not a word, Duo. Are you going to go?"

Duo wrapped a throw pillow in one arm and punched it furiously with the other. "Wuffers won't open up the frickin armory."

"You could always have Heero throw him in the moat for you again, princess." Trowa's evil smirk was ruined by a snort of swallowed laughter. Duo roared incoherently in rage. Trowa gave up and sprawled back into the chair, letting the laughter bubble out.

"I can't believe you guys! You're supposed to be on _my_ side! Friends for life and all that shit. What the fuck? I mean what the fuck?!"

"S-sorry D-Duo," Quatre snorted, leaning his back carefully against Trowa's chair, his arms clamped around his middle. "It's j-just s-so d-damned fu-fu-funny. You c-called him the, the," Quatre dissolved into giggles before choking it out, " _happy humping ha-ham-hamster_!"

"Well hell. He was machine gun humping me and drooling, I couldn't miss it. The guy's hung like a hamster."

Heero frowned. "It's a bad thing to be hung like a hamster?"

Duo leaped to his feet and tottered on the cushions before catching his balance. "Shit Heero! Don't sneak up on people like that. If you scared me out of any inches of hair growth, I'll kick your fuckin' ass!"

"Hey, Heero, you gotta read this!" Quatre said.

Duo's reaction was instant, he jerked, looking utterly horrified. They both leaped for a piece of paper sitting on the edge of the coffee table at the same time. It slid from the table, fluttering the floor. Quatre bodily threw himself on top of it, with Duo landing astride his back and tugging at his hair a moment later.

"Trowa! A little help here!" Quatre gasped, trying to sink an elbow into Duo's gut and missing.

"All right," Trowa said.

"Hey! No fair crying for Tro!" Duo yelped.

"Go Quatre!" Trowa said calmly, then started to clap politely.

Quatre glared around Duo. "I said help!"

"I am helping," Trowa said, then clapped a bit more enthusiastically. He smiled. "Moral support."

"Trowa!"

"You go, boy!" Trowa called.

Quatre bucked his body, trying to unseat Duo. It would have worked, if Duo hadn't wrapped his arm around Quatre's face and held on. "He's going to rip the letter! Duo, get off!"

Letter? Heero frowned and watched Duo try to wrestle Quatre off of the piece of paper by sheer force of will. He had to give credit where it was due, Quatre might be small, but he was holding Duo off rather well.

"Dammit, Quat! I don't want _him_ to see that!"

"Why not? I thought you didn't like _him_ that—oww! Watch the hair! You jerk!" Quatre swung around wildly, missing Duo's face, but coming up with a fistful of braid.

"And you gotta scream it out in front of _him_ don'tch—ahhh! Not the hair! You asshole! You're supposed to be a fucking pacifist, remember?!" Duo managed to get a semi-firm hold on one of Quatre's flailing arms and tugged it back and behind.

Quatre twisted, breaking his arm free of Duo's hold, then shoving the not-princess off and into Trowa's chair with a hard thump. He jumped to his feet, shaking his fist at Duo, just in case the idiot thought he should get up and continue with the fight. "You're fucking lucky that I am a fucking pacifist or I'd so kick your ass!"

"You and what fucking army?!" Duo bellowed, jumping to his feet. "You couldn't kick yourself, girlie boy!"

"Girlie boy! I'm not the one wearing a dress, _princess_!"

"You bastard! You take that back!" Duo roared, executing a low tackle to Quatre's midsection and throwing them both onto the couch before flipping on the floor. This time Quatre landed on top.

Quatre grinned. "I'm seme here, does that make me the happy humping hamster?"

Duo glared up at him. "More like the happy humping hippo. You weigh a freaking ton, are you pregnant or something?"

Quatre's face lost all color and he abruptly jerked back, curling on the couch. "How did you know?"

Duo sat up, his jaw dropping in shock. "What?"

"How did you know I was pregnant? It's supposed to be a secret," Quatre whispered.

Heero's brow furrowed. He might not be very informed on interpersonal relationships, but he was fairly certain that in order to become pregnant, one must be female. Or a tree frog when there were no females present. Quatre was not a tree frog.

Trowa slipped from the chair to wrap himself around his koi—the boyfriend, not the fish—and glare at Duo.

"You're shitting me!"

Quatre sniffled. "You might as well know. I'm a hermaphrodite. I have female organs inside and we didn't know it. Then one day," Quatre squeezed his fingers together and leaned against Trowa, "I started throwing up, crying a lot, and wanting to eat fried shrimp with crunchy peanut butter and didn't know why. There was a mixup at the hospital and the doctors accidentally gave me a pregnancy test. It turned up positive."

Duo's jaw dropped and he shook his head.

Quatre's big, blue eyes, watery with unshed tears, pleaded for his friend to understand. Hesitantly, he reached for Duo with his hand, then snatched it back as if afraid that he would be rejected, rejected because somewhere along the line, his lithe yet strong, slim, boy's body had let forth a tiny little egg to be fertilized, to grow into a child that would be the product of a secret, yet sacred love between himself and his koi—the boyfriend, not the fish—and would ultimately be the ultimate expression of their ultimate union with each other. But oh, if the world found out, their lives would become a nightmare instead of a tender dream of daddy, daddy, and baby. So thus, Quatre and Trowa, the lovers who had fate and time stacked against them, held to their precious secret in hopes that they could live a quiet, beautiful life together. Now, though, now that the ever loyal Duo knew, perhaps their friend would be a fierce protector of their burgeoning little family, to be the uncle that he could be.

"Holy shit," Duo breathed.

"Just kidding!" Quatre snickered. "You shoulda seen the look on your face!"

Trowa grinned. "Gotcha."

Duo turned a funny shade of purple before expelling his breath in a loud, wet, obnoxious rush.

Quatre slid from the crouch with all of the grace of an evilly giggling queen and snatched the piece of paper off of the floor. He tossed Duo a triumphant look before handing it to Heero with a flourish. Heero stood there, staring at the back of that letter, desperately wanting to read it, but understanding that doing so would present something of a setback in the marry Duo portion of the mission. Firmly resolved to appropriate the paper later and read it when Duo wasn't looking, Heero held it out to the not-princess. To say this shocked the others was an understatement. Duo was moved to speechlessness and Trowa was moved to mutter a "holy shit" ala Duo.

"Well," Quatre said.

"Fine," Duo hissed, throwing himself onto the couch. He opened up the paper and peered at it. He cleared his throat. Quatre settled back into Trowa's lap with a grin of utter delight.

"My Dearest darling glorious princess," Duo intoned in a whiny falsetto. He looked up. "That's me. I'm the fucking princess, Yuy, and you better not forget it."

Not this again. Heero sighed. "You are male, therefore you are not the princess, Duo."

Duo snorted rudely. He made a few kissy face noises before melodramatically clutching at his chest and moaning like an exuberant Shakespearean actor who always tried, but never quite got the Romeo part. "Your eyes, your beauteous wonderful eyes that I never actually looked at because I was too busy staring at your non-existent rack and your butt because I'm a lowlife pervert who took Relena's Wonder-Wooing Correspondence Course. You want to make more money? Sure! We all do! Just hook up with your eyes, your beauteous wonderful eyes and be King Sweeper!" He snorted again, scratching his head. "The jerk. Let's see, more eyes. They're purple. Violets. Daises. Rosebuds. Lips. Hips. Yada yada. Here we go." He slipped back into the Shakespearean actor posture. "On the battlements this afternoon, looking deep into your eyes, your beauteous wonderful eyes, can we _please_ get more unoriginal here? Anyway, looking into your eyes I could see the unplumbed, not that I know what unplumbed actually _means_ 'cause I'm a _moron_ , depths of desire welling up for me in the passionate blush and your parted, moist lips." Duo curled his lips and shuddered violently. "God, I feel like I've been slobbered on again. Ewww." He cleared his throat again. "Anyway. If that wretched beast—" Duo pointed at Heero. "That would be you. Wretched beast equals Heero Yuy."

Heero frowned. Wretched beast? He had figured out the letter writer's identity with the salutation and had found himself rather displeased with the majority of the contents, barring the "I'm a moron" part, which Heero felt was accurate. However, he hadn't done anything to that knight until after the letter had been written, so there was really no reason for such an insult.

Duo slapped the back of his hand to his forehead in exaggerated angst. "Oh, if that wretched Heero Yuy beast hadn't viciously attacked us, perhaps by now we would have consummated our great love for each other in a most glorious fashion. My ardor, all half inch of it, for your beauteous countenance that I never actually looked at, and your magnificent person, what can I say, I'm a butt boy, cannot be measured because I'm a loser hornball who couldn't get laid in a whorehouse with a thousand dollar bill taped to my forehead. Despite the cowardly attack to my person by that wretched beast, one Heero watch-me-jack-off-my-gun-parts Yuy, I can assure you, my glorious, beauteous fucking princess, that I shall certainly rise to the occasion to prove to you the depths, measurable only by a single millimeter, of my, uh, I really just wanna nail you, but I'll call it love 'cause I think you're too stupid to figure it out."

Jack off gun parts? Had that knight overheard the conversation in the kitchen between Quatre and the not-princess as well? Not good. Heero would have to do something about that.

"This is the really good part, listen to this." Duo was grinning now. "When I valiantly fought my way free of the depths of the moat. Gah. Fought my way free? The idiot dog paddled out of the stupid thing. Anyway, when I valiantly fought my way free of the depths of the moat that vile villain, that would be you again, Yuy, threw me into in a most cowardly fashion, I discovered the token of your favor that made my heart beat with renewed vigor, a delicate token that proves that you feel the same ardor that I do. I shall carry that glorious green camisole close to my heart, against my skin, knowing that you, too, had worn it close to yours. I now know that such an intimate token of your favor is an acceptance of my ardor. Please, meet me tonight upon the battlements where I last held you close to me. Shya, right. Dream on, loser boy. Let us once again embrace and trace the power of our love together. Yours in adoration, Sir Buick Bonneville, your happy humping hamster."

Duo tossed the letter onto the coffee table and collapsed onto the couch. Quatre was laughing again and Trowa was grinning. Heero picked up the letter, scanning it quickly. Only a portion of what Duo had 'read' was actually in the letter, he noted. The "I'm a moron" part had been editorial commentary, he guessed. He compared Duo's speech to the letter's contents and felt his diaphragm jerk. He sternly shoved it down. Relena's Wonder Wooing Correspondence Course. After spending two weeks in her tutelage on the Art of Courtly Love, he could picture her dispensing advice to that knight on how to pick up the not-princess. Heero's lips cracked a small smile that he couldn't push down. Couldn't get laid in a whorehouse. Before he knew it, he was laughing. _Happy humping hamster_. And he couldn't stop it.

"It's not that funny," Duo grumped, but the glare wouldn't stay on his face.

"Yes, it is," Quatre said beneath his own giggle.

"It was that funny. Particularly Princess Relena's Wonder Wooing Correspondence Course. I had to spend two weeks with the Princess Relena while she taught me the Code of Chivalry and," Heero glowered, "the Art of Courtly Love. I have been unable to remove this information from my memory."

"You spent...." Quatre shook his head. " _Why_?"

"It took that long to find a white horse that the Princess Relena hadn't applied brown shoe polish to. She had run out and had to use pink when they found Wing."

"Take my advice," Trowa said solemnly, "forget anything Relena told you."

Heero nodded. It was nice to know that someone agreed with his assessment of the Princess Relena's usefulness as a source of information. "I ignore it." Well. _Mostly_ ignored it. He couldn't find anything wrong in the execution of his minor side-mission to make sure that the not-princess did not view that knight's butt. While he thought that the Art of Courtly Love was incorrect at best, it did not pay to leave loose ends on a mission.

Duo grinned. "At least we know that Spandex Boy has a sense of humor, right?"

"Baka," Heero growled.

"That's soldier-ese for uber handsome and fabulously intelligent guy," Duo said sagely.

"It means idiot, Duo," Trowa said.

"I like the other version better." Duo's face slid into a thoughtful expression. "Hey, Heero?"

"What, baka?"

"Can I borrow one of your guns?"

"No."

"C'mon, I promise not to shoot you with it. I gotta go meet up with Chivalry Boy and show him all about my love for him. I think the big gun would be the best one to do it with." Duo's grin turned to something that was a bit chilling. "Shinigami likes to make big things go boom."

"So you _did_ find out that Heero is hung like a horse," Quatre said.

Duo turned an interesting shade of red and stammered incoherently. Heero felt his own cheeks burn a little. He didn't know what he was hung like, but he certainly hoped it wasn't like a hamster. Quatre's eyes took on a little bit of a malicious glint that was completely at odds with is cherubic expression. In light of that, Heero decided that a tactical retreat was in order. "I have to go clean my gun."

"Duo _really_ likes it when you clean your gun, Heero," Quatre said. Trowa snorted. Duo's blush turned neon.

Heero nodded once, curtly. "I enjoy performing preventative maintenance to my weapons as well. Coming Duo?"

"If you're good, Heero," Trowa snickered. He grabbed Quatre's wrist. "Come on, we have places to be."

Heero was fairly certain that had been a sexual innuendo. From Barton, of all people. The man had unplumbed depths. Heero found himself chuckling quietly while he made his way to his quarters.

He'd gotten as far as disassembling the left hand .50AE when Duo hesitantly crept into his quarters. His fingers had jerked reflexively toward the .44 AutoMag before he identified the not-princess by scent again. Shampoo and chocolate.

"Heya, Heero." Duo sounded nervous.

"Hn," he replied.

Duo dropped onto the same stool again, arranging the ripped skirt so he could loll around on comfortably. "What'cha doing?"

He slanted Duo a look from the corner of his eyes and didn't dignify that with a response.

"Right." Duo jerked on his braid and watched Heero's hands work the solvent into various gun bits. "Hey, since you're not really using it right now, would it be okay if I borrowed that little gun over there? It looked all cool and stuff when you pointed it at me last night."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Chang asked me not to."

"Well hell."

Heero picked up the gun oil and the bolt. He twirled it between his fingers a little, listening to the not-princess's breath hitch.

"You're, uh, lubing the, uh, shafty parts again," Duo said.

"Yes."

"Well." Duo sounded nonplused.

Heero hid a grin and settled in to see which way fingers splaying oil over the various shafts in the gun parts excited Duo the most. The Do Not Excite Princesses mission was not going to include Duo. He was slipping the tip of his finger into the barrel and watching Duo wriggle on the stool enough to make it squeal when a thought occurred to him. "What did you mean when you said that you didn't care about my gun's butt, you wanted to—"

Duo slapped his hand over Heero's mouth, cringing. "Ack! Don't _say_ it, Heero! God, I'm embarrassed enough as it _is_."

Heero pulled the hand away from his mouth, smearing gun oil all over Duo's wrist, and didn't let go. "Why did you say it if you thought my—"

Duo clamped his other hand over Heero's mouth. "Heero!"

Heero put the barrel down carefully and caught Duo's other wrist. "Why do you want to—"

Heero suddenly found himself with a mouthful of not-princess. With no other recourse, Duo had opted to shut him up by sticking his tongue in his mouth. Heero's first instinct was to render the not-princess incapacitated in order to prevent further attack. His second instinct was to wait and see what came of this. Somewhat uncomfortable, he went with the second one, staring into a pair of funny colored eyes that were as wide and panicked as his own. It registered, finally, what was actually happening. Duo was kissing him.

It was their first kiss, a nervous, shy sensuality shared between two beautiful boys who were excited, yes, so excited, yet afraid. Oh yes, one might expect a brief tremor of fear and longing to work its way through the body of one of the boys before he tentatively melted into the strong, yet loving arms of the other while the kiss, their first kiss, slowly deepened into a tender dancing of tongues and tasting and loving desire as they gently begin to explore a burgeoning delight to be found lingering in the hidden depths of a caressing lover's lips and farther, into the shyly growing passion that slowly made its way from the endless regions of two star-crossed souls finally reaching the pinnacle of loneliness to meld eternally with one another in order to finally become lovers united in a love that's—deep breath—destined to bring them the highest heights of happiness.

Heero wasn't thinking that. Neither was Duo. Heero was finding the whole kiss thing odd in that he expected actual movement of some sort, but wasn't sure what or how. He did think that it was a good step toward the marry the princess mission objective. Duo's hormones were shrieking a dirty, rock'n roll, oooh baby! while his stomach was giving an exuberant Bronx cheer. He jerked back before he could throw up. What on earth had possessed him to stop an embarrassing question by doing something even more embarrassing?

Duo jumped to his feet, jerking on his wrists. Heero frowned a little bit, wondering when he could try this kissing business again since Duo seemed disinclined to continue doing so at the present time. Reluctantly, he released the not-princess's wrists. He backed away, offered a nervous smile, then beat a hasty retreat for the door.

"Duo?"

The not-princess paused at the door, his hand on the jamb, and looked back over his shoulder.

"Is my..." Heero forced the frown off of his face and pushed down thoughts about kissing techniques. Coward. "...butt cute?"


	7. The Trials and Tribulations of Heero Yuy

Excerpted from Mission Log

 **Day:** 7  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Failed

 **Plan:** At 0800, one hour after intended departure time of knight (see Sir Bonneville notes, Day 6), leave the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours.

 **Analysis:** Knight did not leave until 1100 hours. Departure time was delayed due to necessity of creating a travois with which to return the invalid knight to point of origin. Knight claims injuries were sustained when a portion of the battlements crumbled and he fell to the bailey below. There is no evidence to corroborate this claim. Due to excessive swelling in the gluteal area, knight attempted to recline on the travois on his front. As this would expose the knight's butt to the not-princess, this was unacceptable (see Report: Cute Butt under separate cover). A single threat was sufficient to have knight accept transport out of the area on his back. There was a brief confrontation with the knight to reclaim my property. The knight insisted that my shirt was a token of the not-princess's favor and refused to return it. Winner found this logic funny and could not be roused from his fit of laughter until Barton poured water on his face. The knight parted with my shirt immediately after without issue.

Departure with the not-princess was delayed until 1430 hours as the not-princess claimed to be ill. The not-princess was later discovered in the kitchen after consuming an unverifiable amount of various sweets. Chang offered the use of sedatives at this time. The offer was not accepted. This might have been a tactical error, further review is required. Barton attempted to further delay departure at this time by claiming that the horse required maintenance. He was reluctant to explain the details of the required maintenance. Investigation into the matter revealed that the horse was in proper working condition. The problem was that someone had added additional graffiti to the horse's exterior some time in the past 48 hours and Barton wanted to attempt to remove it. Evidence points to the not-princess (Report: Graffiti follows).

At departure, the not-princess mounted the horse behind me. Chang indicated a great deal of astonishment and advised me that the not-princess could not be trusted. Past behavior on the part of the not-princess corroborates Chang's claim. The not-princess was docile and pleasant until approximately 1845 hours when he demanded a "potty break". After ascertaining that he required the use of a field latrine, I permitted a 15 minute break for latrine and food. The not-princess disappeared to the local brush where he remained for 3 minutes before calling for help. I secured the horse to a branch and investigated the disturbance with the right .50AE in hand. At this juncture, events became unclear. The not-princess was screaming something about a snake. When I went to investigate, I found myself yanked into the air by means of a snare. The not-princess stated that he hoped I would not hold a grudge and then abandoned me to dangle from a tree by my left ankle. It required 2 minutes 12 seconds to free myself from the trap without sustaining injury. I found myself grudgingly admiring the not-princess's ingenuity with rope. Upon returning to the branch where I had secured the horse, I discovered that the not-princess had procured it and was no longer in the vicinity.

Chang was waiting when I returned to the castle at 0158. The not-princess had returned shortly after sunset on the horse and had since retired to his quarters.

 **Report Graffiti:** In addition to the pink hearts that are still visible on the horse's exterior, the not-princess painted symbols that appear to be miniature scythes attacking various hearts, what appears to be blood coming from described attacks on the hearts, and several statements as follows: "Shinigami was here", "My other gundam is a rusted nag, too", "Don't stand behind me, shit happens frequently", "I may be slow, but I can kick your ass", "Dial 911, make a cop come", and "Shinigami Roolz". Chang and Winner both state the "Shinigami" is an alias that the not-princess assumes from time to time when feeling particularly violent. The Webster's Unabridged Dictionary provided by Chang has no listing for the term "Roolz". Winner states that it is a colloquialism for the word "rules". Further investigation into the matter is unnecessary to complete the mission.

 **Day:** 8  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Failed  
Injury Report Follows

 **Plan:** At 0700 hours, depart the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours. The not-princess will not be permitted out of sight at any time during transit.

 **Analysis:** Departure was initially delayed until 1100 hours as the not-princess could not be roused and had chained himself to his bed. Efforts to remove the chains were ineffectual until the not-princess was forced to produce a key. Note: the not-princess is highly susceptible to bribery via food, particularly withholding desired sweets. Chang offered the use of sedatives at this time; the offer was not accepted. This may have been a tactical error, further review is required.

The not-princess appeared in the bailey at 1100 hours, dressed and prepared to leave. He did not attempt to avoid departure, as was expected. Chang found this behavior suspicious and I was in agreement. The not-princess refused to mount the horse until he had given Barton and Winner "goodbye hugs" as he claimed he would "really miss his buddies". While not inclined to grant any request made by the not-princess, I could find no adequate reason not to permit this. Once the "goodbye hugs" had been dispensed to the not-princess's satisfaction, he approached the horse to mount it behind me. The horse objected to the not-princess's presence violently. It refused to allow the not-princess close to it and panicked whenever he attempted to get near. The not-princesses expressed confusion over this sudden turn of events. Barton, a circus-performer experienced in dealing with animals, was likewise unable to get near the horse. The horse bucked and raced around the bailey in attempts to elude both the not-princess and Barton. It expressed similar dislike of Winner when its fits brought it near him. I was unable to remain on the horse and sustained injuries in the fall (see Injury Report). The horse is in proper working condition at this time. Departure is delayed indefinitely at this time.

2030 hours: An empty vial of wolf urine was discovered in the not-princess's quarters. The not-princess had apparently applied a great deal of this substance to his person and had transferred the scent to Barton via the "goodbye hug" in order to minimize his effectiveness in calming the horse. Winner's contamination was incidental. It is unclear where the not-princess acquired this substance and an extensive search of his belongings has turned up nothing that would further upset the horse. Barton was extremely angry with not-princess for this tactic and would have physically attacked the not-princess if I had not intervened. I sustained injury in the altercation (see Injury Report). The not-princess refused to bathe and it required myself, Chang, and Winner to do the task for him. Chang and I sustained injury during the bathing process (see Injury Report). It is uncertain how Winner avoided injury, further review is required. Barton was exempted from bathing duty as he was still angry from the not-princess's treatment of the horse and he could not be counted on to be helpful. Departure is rescheduled for 0700 tomorrow.

 **Note:** This does not seem to help the Marry the Princess Mission.

 **Injury Report Chang:** Right index finger: jammed when not-princess tripped him and knocked him to the floor. Left biceps: minor bruising from ducking a right hook from the not-princess. Left shoulder: bite, skin not broken, from the not-princess when Chang bodily held him down to have his hair washed. Right hip: minor bruising from collision with floor when knocked out of tub during hair washing episode. Chang is fit for full duty.

 **Injury Report Yuy:** Injuries sustained during fall from horse: Right biceps: minor bruising. Right hip: minor bruising. Right calf: minor bruising and minor skin abrasion. Injury sustained during altercation with Barton: Bloody nose from the not-princess's elbow when he objected to my help. Injuries sustained during not-princess bathing: Left cheek: minor bruising, shallow cut from backhanded slap from the not-princess. Left shoulder: minor bruising from a kick from the not-princess. Left biceps: minor bruising from a second kick from the not-princess. Three ribs, cracked from repeated kicks from the not-princess during hair washing episode. Fit for full duty.

 **Day:** 9  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Failed

 **Plan:** At 0700 hours, depart the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours. The not-princess will not be permitted out of sight at any time during transit.

 **Analysis:** Departure delayed until morning as the not-princess was missing. A complete search of the castle and its grounds failed to produce the not-princess. Interrogation of Chang, Winner, and Barton was inconclusive, however all three were convinced that no other knights had snuck into the castle and rescued the not-princess. Chang was convinced that he was merely in hiding as he refuses to return to Peacemillion. Evidence appears to corroborate his conclusion. There were signs of the not-princess's presence in the form of leavings of various snacks that only the not-princess can stomach in several locations throughout the castle. After discussion, it was agreed that Chang, Barton, and I would alternate guard duty on the kitchen. Winner was not entrusted as his sympathies lie too strongly with the not-princess. The not-princess was recovered at 0210 hours by Chang while sneaking out of the kitchen with a concoction that included brownies, ice-cream, whipped topping, cookies, rainbow sprinkles, caramel topping, fudge sauce, and french fries.

 **Day:** 10  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Failed  
Injury Report Follows

 **Plan:** At 0900 hours, depart the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours. The not-princess will not be permitted out of sight at any time during transit.

 **Analysis:** Chang produced the not-princess promptly at 0830 hours for departure. Despite his lack of sufficient sleep, he appeared to be in good spirits. I found myself uncomfortable with his level of happiness, but ignored this feeling as being unused to such antics from those around me. I will trust this feeling in the future. The not-princess was in constant motion, which was not unusual from previous observations of the not-princess's behavior, however it did appear to be more manic than is usual. The horse did not object to the not-princess's presence and permitted us to mount without issue.

We had traveled approximately 100 meters from the drawbridge when the not-princess began asking a single question, "Are we there yet?" As it was obvious that we were not, I did not answer. He repeated this question at a rate of 10 repetitions per 3 second interval until I answered in the negative. He was silent for approximately 10 minutes before he began asking that question again. He did not cease for 3 hours. The horse objected violently to my request for the not-princess to stop asking that question (see Injury Report). The not-princess sustained no injuries in the fall.

We had traveled approximately 30 seconds from the remounting point when the not-princess began to complain that he was hungry. He was given a protein bar to eat. The complaints increased in volume and continued for 30 minutes unabated. He was silent for 20 minutes for unknown reasons. I do not trust the not-princess when he is not talking. I do not know if he can plot and talk at the same time. Further observation is required. The not-princess was in constant motion from his arrival in the bailey. While the horse did not object for the first two hours of the journey, the not-princess's movements increased in volume after he stopped talking and the horse did not like it. At exactly 20 minutes from the cessation of complaints of his hunger, the not-princess began singing loudly. He altered the song 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall to 10,000 Cans of Dew on the Wall. He appeared determined to sing the song to the very end. The not-princess is unable to sing in higher pitched octaves. This inability did not stop him from attempting to do so. The horse objected violently to the singing at 9,997 Cans of Dew on the Wall (see Injury Report). The not-princess sustained no injuries in the fall.

We had not moved from the remounting point when the not-princess began to recite from Hamlet: Act 3 Scene 2. The not-princess has no flair for Shakespearean drama. This lack did not stop him from attempting to do so. The horse did not like the not-princess's version of Prince Hamlet. It violently objected when the not-princess leaped to his feet on its back and yelled "Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice and could of men distinguish, her election hath sealed thee for herself" (see Injury Report). The not-princess sustained no injuries in the fall.

The horse did not stop as it had the previous two times it had thrown us from its back. It ran toward the old castle with the saddlebags that contained our provisions and my spare sidearm. As there was sufficient game and water to be found between our location and Peacemillion, we would walk to the Sweeper Castle. The not-princess did not like this plan and voiced his objections loudly. He was not paying attention to the ground and tripped over a rock (see Injury Report). The not-princess behaved as if his ankle had been broken and requested a full splint. As he could not walk, I carried him back to the old castle. The alternative of carrying him to Peacemillion in this condition was not feasible as I would not be unable to find food or offer protection while carrying him.

We arrived at the castle 7 hours 34 minutes later. The not-princess did not stop speaking during the entire return trip. Chang and Winner were present to greet us at the drawbridge. At the castle, the not-princess pronounced his ankle healed and disappeared with Winner. Chang informed me that he had found 2 empty cases, or 48 - 12 ounce cans of Mountain Dew soda pop in the not-princess's quarters after we had left. He expressed surprise that I was as unharmed as I was considering the effect that large amounts of sugar and caffeine have on the not-princess's behavior. Chang reminded me that in order to rescue and marry the not-princess, I could not kill him.

 **Injury Report Yuy:** Injuries sustained from first fall from horse: Left shoulder, bruising. Abdominals, minor bruising from the not-princess landing rump-first. He thought it was _funny_. Injuries sustained from second fall from horse: Right shoulder, bruised. Right knee, minor skin abrasions. Inner left thigh, near groin, bruising from the not-princess landing knee first. Injuries sustained from the third fall from horse: Left shoulder, minor skin abrasions. Left hip, minor bruising. Left Eye, swelling from the not-princess's elbow hitting as I caught him. He claims that it was an accident. I do not believe him. Fit for full duty.

 **Injury Report Not-Princess Duo:** Ankle, invisible swelling. Fit for full duty.

 **Day:** 11  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Failed

 **Plan:** At 0700 hours, depart the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours. The not-princess will not be permitted out of sight at any time during transit.

 **Analysis:** Departure delayed until 0930 hours. The not-princess refused to cooperate. Rope and a gag were required to subdue the not-princess enough to get him mounted on the horse. Due to the limitations of binding the not-princess, he rode sideways in front of me. While this method of transport allowed closer surveillance of the not-princess in order to prepare for and circumvent any plans he might have in effect, it was uncomfortable and the position was not conducive to defense in the event of an ambush. The not-princess fell asleep immediately after departure. While this made for a peaceful transit, his hair went up my nose and he drooled on my chest. I removed the gag in order to prevent further drooling. It did not help.

The ride was uneventful until the not-princess woke up 3 hours and 27 minutes later. He does not sleep quietly. He does not wake up quietly. He demanded a "potty break" at this time and was granted 15 minutes to take care of his needs. He complained about doing so under guard. We remounted the horse as usual, with him behind, arms secured behind his back by rope. The gag was left off, but under the threat that it would be utilized if he abused the privilege. He did not speak again.

2 hours and 49 minutes later I discovered that he was missing. I backtracked to the remounting point and discovered the rope that had bound his hands together 15 feet from it. Footprints leading off toward the old castle suggested that it was his destination. Determining that an ambush tactic offered the best chance of success, I returned to the castle as quickly as possible while sparing the horse's physical condition for later use. I arrived at the drawbridge 1 hour and 24 minutes later. Winner, who was on sentry duty, assured me that the not-princess had not returned prior to my arrival. Chang arranged a watch schedule that excluded Winner who could not be trusted. Barton stated that there was no point to this exercise, but agreed to participate.

At 0023 hours I was standing guard at the portcullis when I overheard Winner laughing with someone in the kitchen. As it did not sound like Barton, I immediately went to investigate. The not-princess was recovered at 0024 hours in the kitchen. I am unsure how he entered the castle. Chang assures me that there are no other entrances but the front door and the not-princess held up remarkably well under intense interrogation. Departure is rescheduled for 0900 hours.

 **Day:** 12  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Failed  
Injury Report Follows

 **Plan:** At 0900 hours, depart the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours. The not-princess will not be permitted out of sight at any time during transit.

 **Analysis:** Departure delayed until 1430 hours. The not-princess had locked himself in the south west turret. From his yelled threats and subsequent investigation of his claims, we verified that he had adequate food and soda pop to last him for several days as well as three weapons, knives, appropriated from Barton's quarters. Barton was upset by this and threatened to skin the not-princess alive if anything happened to those knives. Winner eventually coaxed Barton to their shared quarters where yelling and screaming was later heard. Chang assured me that Barton was not exactly skinning Winner alive. The not-princess claimed that Barton was playing a game he called "hide the salami" with Winner. This upset Chang who refused to explain.

The door could not be broken down as the not-princess had barricaded it. There were no accessible windows on the turret. The only option was to remove the door. We found a large bureau, two chairs, and a needlepoint depicting a knight battling a dragon to rescue a princess. The not-princess had defaced the needlepoint with permanent marker, giving the princess horns, a sword, and something that resembled a large cucumber. The knight was riddled with knives and wounds and "Heero Yuy" was written over his legs. Once we broke past the barrier it was difficult to subdue the not-princess. He was able to hold both Chang and myself off with a combination of skilled knife fighting techniques and street fighting for a lengthy period of time. (Note: find out where the not-princess learned hand-to-hand combat.) Once we disarmed the not-princess, I was able to pin him to the floor while Chang secured him with rope. It was necessary to gag the not-princess at this point. Chang and I both sustained injuries in the scuffle (see Injury Report). The not-princess somehow avoided injury; further review is required.

The not-princess was once again mounted on the horse in my lap in order to guard against his abilities to extricate himself from rope. Chang offered the use of sedatives at this time. The offer was not accepted. This might have been a tactical error, further review is required. The not-princess fell asleep within minutes of departure. He slept 5 hours and 38 minutes before waking. He attempted to communicate something that I was unable to understand through the gag. I removed the gag and he demanded a "potty break" or else he would "piss all over" my "fucking leg!" He was granted 15 minutes with which to take care of his business. Before untying his hands so that he could tend to himself, I took the precaution of tying a rope around his legs and another around his neck, which I held. After 18 minutes of debate, the not-princess convinced me that he would be unable to "potty" with an audience despite the prior threat to "piss all over" my "fucking leg!" Reluctantly, I allowed him to stand behind a tree. After 3 minutes, I tugged on the rope and demanded that he hurry up. There was no reply. This concerned me and I immediately went to investigate. I found the ropes that I held tied to a branch of the tree and the ropes that had bound the not-princess on the ground. I turned around immediately and found the horse gone, most likely with the not-princess on top of it.

I returned to the castle at 2145 hours to find the horse in its stall and the not-princess sleeping in his quarters.

 **Injury Report Chang:** Left eye, bruising. Left forearm, bite. Left knuckles, bruising. Right knee, bruising. Right ankle, twisted. Requires 24 hours of elevation, reduced duties.

 **Injury Report Yuy:** Right forearm, minor cut, no stitches. Right biceps, minor cut, no stitches. Right thigh, minor cut, no stitches. Lower lip, split. Left cheek, minor bruising. Left forearm, bite, bleeding. Recommend tetanus shot. Fit for full duty.

 **Day:** 13  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Failed  
Injury Report Follows

 **Plan:** At 0800 hours, depart the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours. The not-princess will be given a sedative at regular intervals.

 **Analysis:** At 0700 hours, Barton began preparing the not-princess's third favorite breakfast. It was decided not to make his favorite as he might get suspicious about the food and refuse to eat. I cannot imagine the not-princess actually refusing to eat, but Chang assures me that it has happened at least once in the past. Winner states that he can recall two separate occasions. A strong sedative was mixed in with the syrup. While the not-princess ate his breakfast, several canteens were prepared with a mixture of an electrolyte beverage and the sedative. The sedative was indicated to last the average person 12 hours. Considering the not-princess's metabolism, I calculated that it would last for 4 hours. Enough of the sedative beverage was made to get the not-princess to Peacemillion without argument.

At 0800 hours, Barton helped the sleeping not-princess mount the horse in my lap and we departed without incident. The not-princess had bad dreams with every REM cycle. This concerned me as the horse showed signs of wanting to violently object to these dreams. The not-princess is loud and active when he is having bad dreams. His language, already rude at best, deteriorated further and he lashed out with his fists and his feet (see Injury Report). At 1315 hours, the not-princess began to wake up. Since he was sufficiently groggy to not think clearly, I permitted him personal time and gave him the electrolyte beverage with the sedative in it. He drank it and fell back asleep while mounting the horse. I was able to return him to the same position in my lap. He slept until 1800 hours. We stopped again for more personal time and more of the electrolyte beverage. He apologized for his sleepiness, falling asleep before mounting the horse. He slept until 0030 hours. Once again, we stopped for personal time and more of the electrolyte beverage. He did not fall asleep until we had remounted the horse. At this point, I fell asleep. I awoke 4 hours later, on the ground, by myself, with a canteen of the electrolyte beverage.

 **Injury Report Yuy:** Right eye, swollen shut, bruised, from the not-princess's fist. Sedated, unable to operate heavy machinery until Day 14, 1200 hours. Fit for full duty.

 **Day:** 15  
 **Mission:** Rescue the Princess  
 **Status:** Completed

 **Plan:** At 0800 hours, depart the castle via horseback with adequate provisions and the not-princess. Estimated transit time to Peacemillion, the Sweeper Castle, 43 hours. The not-princess will not be permitted out of sight at any time during transit.

 **Analysis:** Upon my return to the old castle at Day 14, 1630 hours, Winner met me at the gate. The not-princess had safely arrived at the castle early that morning. This is no surprise. The not-princess was in the entertainment room, watching television and eating popcorn. He waved cheerfully at me and asked if I enjoyed my sedative. Winner reminded me that I was not permitted to shoot the not-princess.

After subtly interrogating the not-princess's best friend Winner, I was instructed to politely ask the not-princess to return to Peacemillion. I did not see this as an effective ploy to rescue the not-princess as it had not worked on Day 7. Winner assured me that I had ordered the not-princess to return to Peacemillion. I disagree with this assessment. Rather than argue with Winner, I immediately found the not-princess playing a video game. I asked him politely to return to Peacemillion with me. He immediately agreed to comply with my request.

Departure occurred at 0800 hours without incident. The not-princess mounted the horse behind me and bid his friends goodbye cheerfully. He did not attempt to annoy either myself or the horse with talking, singing, acting, or fighting at any point during transit. He was remarkably good company.

We arrived at the drawbridge to Peacemillion on Day 17, at 0800 hours. The sentries correctly challenged our presence. At this point the not-princess yelled, "Heeeeeeeey Luuuuucy! I'm hoooome!" The portcullis immediately dropped and the guards began to raise the drawbridge. It took 2 hours to convince the men at arms lining the battlements to notify either King Howard or King's Advisor G of our arrival so that we could be passed into Peacemillion. The not-princess spent most of this time laughing, taunting the men at arms, and throwing rocks at the battlements. We entered Peacemillion at 1100 hours. Mission completed.


	8. I Am Not Obsessed With Heero's Butt

Well, thanks to Heero God _damn_ -my-ass-looks-hot-in-spandex Yuy, Duo was right back home where he didn't belong. Duo felt like kicking himself for being such a pathetic pushover. All Heero had to do was blink those pretty blue eyes and pout a little and he'd caved. Just like that. "Please return to Peacemillion with me." And he'd said, "yeah." Just like that. Never mind that the interruption had totally let Julia kick his ass in Tekken 3. Goddammit, just when he was about to get the stupid doctor, too.

He should have said no. He should have said not only no, but fuck no. He should have kicked Heero "is my butt cute?" Yuy square between those perfect cheeks. Ha! As if that man didn't know that he had the most perfect, most luscious backside a man could possibly possess. The only, and that meant _only_ , reason Heero there's-no-underwear-over-this-ass Yuy wasn't in traction for sedating him was the little compensation Duo had helped himself to for the whole Wuffie's-Ambien-in-the-Gatorade trick. He'd given himself a good fifteen solid minutes of unabashed Heero's butt groping after he'd swapped canteens with Mr. Perfect Butt. He did feel kind of bad for taking advantage of a sleeping man, but he'd asked for it when he used that gag not once, but _twice_. Gagged! Duo was still pissed off about that. If Heero was going to gag him, he could have had the decency to use his tongue to— _No_. He wasn't going there. No fucking way.

Duo bent over and picked up another rock to hurl at the guys on the battlements. Assholes. One teeny tiny itty bitty explosion in the barracks and everyone gets their panties in a wad. You'd think he'd blown the place up on purpose the way they carried on. Well, he had, but that was beside the point. He was the fucking princess, it was about friggin time they forgave and forgot already. He'd been gone for a year and a half and now that he was freshly rescued, they could goddamned well be happy to see him for a change.

When G finally popped his mushroom head over the battlements, Heero buns-of-steel Yuy found out what the problem was. Apparently no one had informed Mr. Mission Impossible that rescuing Princess Duo did _not_ include bringing said Princess Duo home. They rather expected Heero to carry him off into the sunset to Baron J's swinging bachelor pad o' love. It took a good half an hour of negotiations, which Duo spent quietly laughing his ass off in the grass and pointedly _not_ ogling Heero's butt, before G would let either of them into the castle. Not that he could have kept Duo out anyway. It took G another half an hour to convince the captain of the guard that yes, as King's Advisor, he _did_ have enough authority to authorize Duo's re-entry into Peacemillion. Then the drawbridge came down and the portcullis shot up. Heero had pursed his kissable lips together and given him a Look before they'd entered the castle.

"Heeeeeeeeeero!"

The horse, being a sensible sort of horse, leaped into the air, landed stiff-legged, and attempted to leave the castle at top speed. Having just rescued the not-princess, it was obvious from the cursing and braid-yanking that Heero had no intention of rescuing him all over again just because the horse had enough sense to run like all the devils in hell were after him at the sound of _that_ voice and Duo had enough sense to try and hitch a ride.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!" The Princess Relena exploded from the great hall and threw herself across the bailey, arms outstretched. "You're back!" She stopped on a dime and gave back change when her eyes landed on Duo. "Oh my god what have you _done_ to your _dress_?!" she shrieked in the same tone of voice that one might use to wonder why in the hell god might have cursed one with a waste of a sister like this one.

Duo grinned. "Like it? It's all the rage in Paris."

Relena gave him a frown while trying not to frown—frowns were just not something you let the love of your life see—and turned a bright smile on Heero. "I'm so glad to see that you're back. It's so brave, fighting the dragon to save the princess."

"Fuckin' A," Duo agreed. "I dunno, you think you can kick Wuffer's ass, Heero?" Speaking of ass, Duo spent a moment checking out Heero's again. Argh!

"Chang is an ally, Duo, I would not fight with him."

"Duo!" Relena hissed. How she managed to hiss at the top of her lungs was pretty much beyond Duo's imagination, but so was her fascination with pink. "You are a _princess_."

Duo glared at Heero. "See! I'm the fucking princess, Yuy."

"Duo! Language!"

Heero gave his little not-this-again twitch of his eyelids. "You are no—"

"Jeez, Relena, yank your panties our of your—"

"Duo!" Relena threw a shocked gasp at Heero. Heero frowned at Duo. Big mistake, Duo could already see the he's-protecting-me, he-really-loves-me! light in her eyes.

"You are not the princess," Heero said.

Oh that did it. Gorgeous ass or no gorgeous ass, lips that could melt you all the way to the bone or not, Heero was going to learn a few things or he wasn't Shinigami, the kick ass fucking princess of the Sweeper Kingdom. Yup. Heero I've-got-a-perfect-pair-of-butt-cheeks Yuy had better watch the fuck out. "I'm the fucking princess! Don't make me get out the goddamned tiara to prove it, bitch!"

"Well, at least she's admitting it now," G said. He wasn't normally the type to hunt for a silver lining, but it seemed to be the occasion for it. "Welcome home, Princess Duo."

"G! You fucknut! I'm gonna kill you! You sicced all of those idiot knights on me!"

G actually had the gall to look affronted by this accusation. He stuck his nose in the air and shoved his fists into his sleeves, snorting in denial.

Duo went from only partly, just for the fun of it pissed off to all the way pissed off. "Don't give me that, G! Howie probably hasn't pulled his face out of Dorothy's lack of cleavage long enough to breathe let alone remember that he sacrificed me to a friggin dragon last year!"

"Duo!" Relena was doing her heaving chest virginal blush thing in Heero's general direction, not that it was doing her any good, Heero was pulling his brows together in that you're-confusing-me-so-I'm-going-to-have-to-kill-you-now glare of his.

Duo snorted. "What? Dorothy spanks his monkey for him all the time. In more ways than one, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean!" Relena bellowed.

Duo rolled his eyes. "Right. Like you never read the Kama Sutra."

Relena gasped, her eyes flicking to Heero and then settling to glare at Duo. "You swine!"

"Ahem," G grunted diplomatically before the hair-yanking could get under way. "Everyone has assembled in the great hall, we're just waiting on the lucky couple. Twenty minutes, tops, and you're on your way outta he—er, to your honeymoon!"

Heero turned his quit-confusing-me-or-die glare on G. "Honeymoon?"

"I'm _not_ marrying him!" Duo roared.

"Goody!" Relena squealed. "I'll do it!"

"Why not?" Heero sounded a little hurt. Well, a lot angry, but there was an undertone in there.

Duo glared at him. "I'd rather live in sin."

"Duo!" Relena gasped. "You can't! Heero is _mine_!"

"Live in sin?" Heero was impossibly cute when he glared like that.

G grumbled something under his breath that was rather uncomplimentary toward Duo, his ancestors, and involved a rather arduous and physically impossible sexual suggestion with several laws of thermodynamics that were never meant to be used that way.

"You know, bone without the benefit of marriage."

"That sentence was missing a predicate," Heero said.

"Bone. Horizontal mambo. Wildthang. Fuck. Sex. Coitus. Intercourse. Ride the wild Heero. Ya know?" Duo didn't think Heero particularly got it, but Relena looked just about ready to explode. Not quite there yet, though. Duo brought to mind the curve of muscled butt painted with black spandex and let that drool-worthy image take over his leer. "Clean your gun naked, big guy."

Heero took about thirty seconds to mull that over then he blushed. Duo thought that was incredibly adorable, but didn't say so. G would think that meant "I do! Let's go to your place!" and have them locked out of the castle before he could find some pants. Not to mention that Heero might point the gun at him. Relena gasped, her mouth working like a pink puffer fish, then she shrieked. Duo was pretty sure there were words involved, but since it was a shriek that ran somewhere between kick-in-the-balls soprano and a dog whistle, he couldn't make them out. He grinned. No one, absolutely _no one_ , could make the Pink Menace shriek like Duo could. He settled back on his heels, smirking. Score one for big bro.

His smirk didn't last long. Like the baying yips of coyotes on the plains, Relena's shrieks echoed through the corridors of Peacemillion, alerting the other estrogen carnivores. Heero's grimace settled into a frown and his ear canted toward the door to the great hall. Duo looked in that direction, suddenly feeling uneasy. The ground rumbled beneath his feet before the muted thunder of what could have been the hooves of a vast, countless buffalo stampede reached his ears. Heero's hands automatically dropped to his guns and his body tensed prepared for battle. Duo felt the shiver of fear crawling down his spine. Fear like he hadn't felt since he'd been sacrificed to a dragon a year and a half ago. _Oh God_. The relative peace of the old castle in the mountains had blunted his survival instincts.

Yipping shrieks from the interior of the castle mated with Relena's wailing until the cacophony had the men at arms on the battlements ducking for cover. Heero glanced at Duo's rigid frame and white face, then yanked the guns out, wildly looking for the source of the enemy. The doors exploded outward, spewing a froth of flying hair. Maddened eyes landed on him and the caterwauling blended into dismay and wailing. Duo looked down at his dress. He looked up the Horde. Destroyed Dress. Horde.

"Oh shit! _Fangirls_!" Duo turned and ran as if the very hounds of hell were after him. Any man, even Chang I'm-the-manliest-man-in-existence Wuffee-pooh, would have certainly done the same thing. The hounds of hell had _nothing_ on the Horde.

"Fangirls?" Heero echoed.

.

_A short while later...._

.

Duo slouched in his seat at the dinner table and glowered at the plate. He was sorely out of practice. He'd managed to elude the Horde for about fifteen minutes before the cornered him behind the stables and dragged him off to the Fangirl Reign of Terror. He had been bathed against his will—no doubt Heero would kill to learn how to do that without getting cracked ribs—in a tub of rose-scented water. He'd been dressed, in _pink_ no less, perfumed, primped, make-upped, tiara-ed, and in general turned into what the Horde considered the height of feminine beauty. You know, you'd think that after industriously scrubbing his penis with a loofah, they would have figured it out.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," Relena said, leaning toward Heero and smiling. "They match the shoes that I bought last week just perfectly! It must be fate."

Duo watched Heero pick up a bite of food and methodically chew it without looking up from his plate.

"I think we're destined," she added.

"Destined?" That came from Dorothy, who apparently had decided that Howard was a good boy and was cutting up his food for him.

A soft smile blossomed on Relena's face. Oh, this oughta be good. "Destined. We're star-crossed lovers who are fated to be together, but are torn apart by circumstances and the will of our families. Like Romeo and Juliet who cannot marry because our families won't allow it."

Duo snorted painfully, trying to swallow the laugh in his throat.

Heero very carefully took another bite of food, only making eye contact with his roast beef.

"Ri–i-i-i-ight," Baron J said. "Well, no time like the present to rip star-crossed lovers apart, 01. The princess isn't eating and the priest is waiting, so let's get this wedding circus over with. I cut out the non-essential parts so we can get it done in two minutes."

Heero looked up at Baron J, then nodded once, curtly.

Oh _hell_ no. Duo leaped to his feet and slammed his fist on the table. He carefully aimed for his plate and managed to spill most of it along the front of his dress. "I am _not_ marrying him!" he roared at the top of his lungs.

"Oh dear," G said in the resulting silence.

Baron J glared. Well, it kind of looked like he glared. "You have no choice."

Dorothy smirked, leaning back to enjoy the show. "You shouldn't've said that."

"Bullshit," Duo snarled. "I don't say I do, there ain't no marriage. I'm _not_ getting married."

Relena looked immensely pleased. "I'll be happy to take my sister's place. I am nothing if not willing to sacrifice all for her happiness."

"You're betrothed to Treize Khushrenada," Dorothy told her helpfully. "Why not, Duo?"

Duo glared at Heero. "Because Frankenstein's Monster over there told him to."

Dead silence met that pronouncement. Relena took the opportunity to slip into her heaving chest routine, but no one was paying attention. Heero was staring him, his face blank with confusion. Dorothy grinned at him.

The lines on Baron J's forehead pushed down on his goggles. "Your father, the king, signed a contract. You get rescued. You get married."

G nodded his head thoughtfully. "That's true."

Dorothy smirked. "We have a law in the Sweeper Kingdom. No one can be forced to marry against his or her will. If Princess Duo doesn't say I do, the marriage is void."

Baron J grunted. "That's a stupid law. Howard, change it immediately."

"What?" King Howard started, ripping his eyes away from Dorothy's cleavage for a moment.

"Change the law."

"It's not quite that simple, J," G said smoothly. "We'd have to convene parliament."

"What do you require to agree to marriage?" Heero asked abruptly.

Dorothy rolled her eyes. "She wants to be wooed."

Duo crossed his arms over his chest and sulked. "I do not."

"Take her on some dates, get her some flowers, write sonnets to her eyes. You know, the whole courtship ritual thing." Dorothy waved her hand dismissively.

Heero's brow furrowed in his usual mission-planning face. Duo rolled his eyes. "I'm outta here. This is bullshit."

"Wait!" Baron J ordered.

As if. Duo wheeled around and bolted from the hall. He stomped down the corridor, yanking bows—bows!!—from his hair and scrubbing at the kohl the Horde had managed to put around his eyes with the back of his hand. Sonnets to his eyes. From _Heero_. Dorothy was a sadistic bitch. He kicked off those stupid ballet slipper things and ripped the sleeves from the dress. He flexed his fists a couple of times and decided that it was way past goddamned time for the fucking Princess Duo Maxwell to reassert his masculinity. Maybe find some pants while he was at it.

He slipped through the back gate and stomped into the town that rested at Peacemillion's feet. He was on the prowl for trouble. Luckily enough, trouble was usually on the prowl for him, so meeting up with it was a frequent and generally quite satisfying event in his life. Taverns meant drunken soldiers meant a brawl in the making. And he knew exactly which tavern to hit. If he were really truly blessed, they would be too drunk to recall that he was the fucking Princess. They had this thing about hitting women. The bastards. He oughta get the Horde to take a loofah to their penises and show 'em what real manhood was all about.

The Cock'n Bull was in full frenzy, as expected. He found himself smirking. He whipped his knife out of his hair and took care of some extra skirt before slamming the door open and grinning at the clientele. Well, clientele was perhaps too kind a word. The dregs of Sweeper humanity lived for this kind of bar. Guys who married their 1963 Harley Davidson Panhead lined the bar. Guys who'd gotten kicked out of the Gestapo for being too mean mingled with rejects from the Spanish Inquisition. Dead silence greeted the arrival of him and his mangled pink ball gown. Oh yeah, this was gonna be good.

The barkeep took one look at him, had his eyes bugged out of his pocked face, and started hiding the cheap whiskey behind the bar. The rest of them gaped. He felt his grin turn just a bit more maniacal as he stalked a fat guy in a leather vest holding a pool cue. "You drinking this?" he asked, picking up a tankard of ale.

"Go back home, little girl, before you get hurt," Fat and Ugly growled.

"Not until I get what I came for," Duo said sweetly, then pitched the contents of the tankard into F'n U's face.

Sweet. It was sweet like a first blowjob. Not that he'd ever had a blowjob, but it was sweet like he'd imagined a blowjob to be like. F'n U bellowed like a wounded wombat and reached for the braid. Duo ducked under the swing and sank his arm elbow deep in F'n U's generously presented guts. The pool cue went flying and slapped into a skinny guy that looked like a cross between Freddy Mercury in leather and Marge Simpson.

"Bar fight!" someone roared and the place erupted into a melee faster than Relena could erupt into tears over not getting her way.

Duo was in the thick of it, darting in and out of bodies with the speed and agility that bespoke of many years experience at the art of brawling. He hadn't felt this damned good since he pitched that idiot Chivalry Boy over the wall. He wondered if that would work without a wall. Sure enough, F'n U's cousin, Stupid and Ugly, flipped ass over teakettle into a table, scattering its occupants. Duo leaped onto a chair and Tarzan-howled, complete with chest thumping, in a heady rush of power, then mosh-pit dove back into the fray.

 _Boom_! The sound of the gun brought everyone to a complete halt. Duo looked up, his arm around someone's neck. Castle guards. Uh oh. G took a rather, um, _dim view_ on Duo's brawling habits and could make things, erm, _quite unpleasant_ when he wanted to. Duo dropped his dance partner after popping him in the nose for good measure and bolted for the back door. He bounced off of something, landed on his ass, and sprang for the door again, only to run directly into a guy wearing a blue coat with way too many shiny doo-dads on it. He stepped back onto his right leg, then sent a vicious jab directly for the guy's gut. Mr. Fancy was a better class of loser, apparently, because the fist never landed. Duo was a street rat fighter of some repute, if he did say so himself, but this guy caught his arm, flipped him around, and wrenched it up behind his back like Tae-bo Chang did whenever he caught Duo stealing his pants.

"Not just yet, my dear," Mr. Fancy Pants purred. "It's not often that I find a woman in a tiara and ball gown starting brawls in disreputable taverns."

"You better let me go, if you know what's good for you!"

"Princess!" one of the guards gasped, as if he were genuinely surprised to find the fucking princess involved in a bar fight within ten hours of getting rescued from a dragon.

"Princess?" Mr. Fancy was definitely interested now. "Would you be Relena?"

Now that was an insult he couldn't let pass. He landed a vicious kick on Fancy Pants' shin and bellowed, "I am _not_ the Pink Menace!"

The arm was pushed higher, until Duo winced. "Pity, princess. I like your spirit."

"Leggo!"

"We'll just take the princess with us, sir. I'm sure them up at the castle are, um, well. I'll take her back."

Fancy Pants smiled. "Watch out. She has a mean right hook."

"I'll show you mean right hook, you bastard! Lemme go and I'll kick your goddamned fucking ass from here to hell and back!" Patronize him, well he'd see about that. Duo was the kick ass fucking princess, goddammit!

With a simple shove, Duo was sent sprawling into the horrified guard. Mr. Fancy Pants touched his fingers to his brow in salute, then melted through the back door. If it hadn't been for the guard's two buddies grabbing him, he would have wiped that smirk right off that asshole's face!

.

_Late the next morning...._

.

"Heeeeeeero!"

Duo winced and pressed himself deeper into the small niche between an ornate chest and the wall.

"Heeeeeeeeeero!"

It was weird, but he had warm fuzzies inside knowing that somewhere in the castle, Heero was probably doing the very thing Duo was doing: hiding. It was like they were sharing something together. It was almost like it was their first date. Of course, Heero only had Relena stalking him. Duo had the entire Horde. If Heero really wanted to rescue him, he'd rescue him from that rabid pack of dress wielding ladies in waiting.

The door to Relena's bedroom exploded open and two prowling girls moved in. They paused, in the midst of the floor, nostrils quivering and licking their lips. Teeth gleamed in the light streaming from the windows. With a cry, one of them spotted him. They both turned like the hunting beasts they were and pounced. "Princess Duo!"

Had he not already turned the skirt of today's blue beaded number into shreds, he would have been well and truly trapped. It was only by sheer strength and agility—okay, blind panic—that he was able to half-shimmy up the wall and use the chest as a springboard for the door. He dove through the opening, racing down the corridor. Three of the Horde were rushing forward, adding their cries to the baying of the pack. "Princess Duo! Look what you've done to your dress! You silly _girl_!"

Duo danced out of their way, narrowly avoiding capture as he ducked and sidestepped their grasping hands. He was not ashamed to admit that while he could come out on top in a bar room fight with the roughest, toughest ass kickers in the kingdom, the only way he could defeat the Horde was by running for his very life. He slipped around a corner, defying all the laws of inertia, and bolted for the tower rooms. Well appointed and usually reserved for important guests, the rooms were generally empty.

"Princess Duo! Princess Duo!"

They were gaining on him.

He poured everything he had into his legs, mentally shrieking. He burst through the door, slamming it as the baying pack closed the distance. He dropped the bar over the door and scrambled for the heavy chest next to it. The bar wouldn't hold them for long. Putting his back against the chest, he shoved, grunting and cursing every member of the Horde long and lustily. The chest groaned and squealed, but moved. Slowly.

"Princess Duo! Princess Duo!" They were bouncing off the door, no doubt. It shuddered in its frame and the thick wooden bar that held it locked shut bulged.

"Allow me."

Duo nearly jumped out of his skin. Two hands braced on either side of his waist and a broad, white-shirted chest swam in his vision. Mr. Fancy Pants in the flesh. The man shoved with him, pushing until the chest firmly blocked the door. Mr. Fancy Pants backed away, offering Duo a smile. "Princess Duo, I presume?"

Duo glared at him suspiciously.

"Your, ah, fan club is yelping."

"Who are you?"

"My apologies. I'm Treize Khushrenada."

"Treize Khu—oh! You're the poor sap who's getting saddled with the Pink Parasite." Duo genially spit on his palm and offered his hand with a wide grin. "Pleased to meet you."

Khusre, er, Kushro, um, Treize looked at the hand dubiously, then took the fingers and pressed a courtly kiss to the cracked and swollen knuckles. "The pleasure is all mine, my lady."

Duo jerked his hand away. "Yeah, okay. Hey, what were you doing in the Cock'n Bull anyway? Doesn't seem like the kind of place for a fancy guy like you to hang out."

Kusra, uh, Khushme, er, Treize smiled urbanely. "I was asking for directions when a beautiful lady in a pink dress walked in and started a barroom brawl. I was intrigued."

The chest began rattling in front of the door. They were using a concerted effort and probably someone's head as a battering ram. Shit. Duo backed up to the window and flicked his eyes at Kash, um, Khish, er Treize. "Yeah, well, just blowin' off a little steam, you know? It's time for me to jet, before the Horde gets in. Nice meetin' ya'n all."

"The Horde?"

Duo jerked his thumb to the door. "Ladies in waiting. They don't like my keen fashion sense."

"I see." Khashm, er Kushrm, um, Treize frowned. "How do you intend to escape your Horde?"

Duo grinned again, hopping onto the windowsill. "Don't try this at home, kids," he said with a wink, then jumped.

He swam out of the moat with far more grace and panache than that idiot Chivalry Boy had done back at the old castle. He tossed a merry salute to Mr. Fancy Pants, who was leaning out of the window, then went off in search of Heero. Heero I-know-you-drool-when-I-flex-my-butt-cheeks Yuy was supposed to be his Knight in Shining Armor, goddammit. He was supposed to rescue the fucking princess when the fucking princess needed a rescue. Where was he when the Horde descended? Hiding from Relena like a weasel coward, no doubt. Fuck dragons. Fuck horny Chivalry Boys. The Horde was the most dangerous thing on the planet and Heero an-ass-this-hot-should-be-illegal Yuy had abandoned him to a fate worse than death.

Duo drew himself up to his full height and let the rage and indignation take over. He shook his fist at the castle wall. "Heero Yuy!" he roared. "You asshole! You were supposed to rescue me, goddammit! When I find you, I'm gonna kick your cute butt all the way back to the mountains! Shinigami will have his revenge!"

.

_In the stables...._

.

Heero paused, the curry brush resting on Wing's side, right above the words "make a cop come", and listened. The stable hands, terrifyingly familiar with things involving Shinigami and revenge, stared in horrid fascination as a smile worked its way across Heero's face. Duo thought his butt was cute.


	9. Smokin' in the Boy's Room

It was fascinating. Astonishing. Stupid. After a full two days of watching the residents of Peacemillion deal with Duo, Heero was forced to conclude that they were either blind or dumb. Perhaps both. How could they not notice that the not-princess was male? He had forced himself to acknowledge that he hadn't completely believed he was rescuing the right person until they'd arrived and King's Advisor G had confirmed that he'd rescued Princess Duo. Duo didn't look female. He didn't speak like a female. He didn't act like a female. Just last night he'd gotten drunk and stood on the battlements above the portcullis and peed on the drawbridge. It was beyond Heero's understanding how anyone could think that a female either would do such a thing or had the proper external urinary equipment to get such range and precision in that activity. Of course, the guard captain who was on the drawbridge at the time hadn't been nearly as amused as Duo seemed to think he would be. Heero decided that he couldn't blame the man.

The not-princess belched rudely, yawned, then slapped his left hand, fingers spread wide, flat on the table. His plate of food hit his lap, where he ignored it. He whipped a dagger out of somewhere—Heero made a mental note to pat him down for weapons—and slammed the tip into the table between the webbing of his thumb and forefinger, then between his index and middle finger, then back to between the thumb and forefinger, then between his middle and ring finger, then back between the thumb and forefinger, then between the ring finger and pinkie, then back between his thumb and forefinger. Duo repeated this pattern twice almost nonchalantly, then picked up speed until Heero was pretty sure he'd cut himself.

Baron J paused in his change-the-wedding-law harangue for nearly thirty seconds, a sure sign that he was impressed. King's Advisor G groaned and covered his face with his hands, well, most of his face. His nose stuck out. Relena appeared to be fascinated in a gape-mouthed, fascination-of-the-horrible way. At least it kept her from taking Heero's clothes off with her eyes. Treize Khushrenada set his fork on his plate and watched the not-princess in an all too predatory fashion. Heero decided that he did _not_ like Khushrenada.

"Heero," King's Advisor G said tightly from behind his palms. "Could you please take Princess Duo elsewhere and woo her for a while? Thank you."

"Aww, G, don't you like me anymore?" Duo whined. The flashing blade of the dagger sped up.

Heero very carefully took a bite of his food and did not take his eyes from the moving knife.

"We have a very important guest, Princess Duo," G snarled politely, inasmuch as an evil looking gnome in a blue velvet cloak trying to scold without appearing to scold could be polite.

Duo either missed the hint, or refused to take it. Heero was betting on the latter. "G! Treize-baby loves me, don't ya T.K.?"

Khushrenada leaned back and smiled. "I find you refreshing, Princess Duo."

 _Treize-baby_?

"Duooooooo!" Relena squealed. "He's _my_ man!"

Dorothy elbowed Relena none to politely in the ribs. "You're supposed to only be obsessed with Heero."

Relena frowned. "Are you sure?"

Duo rolled his eyes and sped up the dagger's movements along his fingers.

 _Treize-baby_?!

"Positive."

"Huh." Relena scratched her head. "I thought I was supposed to be Duo's antagonist."

Dorothy shook her head. "Just the Heero-obsessed, slightly psychotic airhead."

"Are you sure?" Relena yanked an envelope out of her bodice. "I believe my contract specifically mentions that I'm to supply instant angst in the form of deranged stalking of any man Duo shows interest in so that he can feel inferior and plunge into the depths of depression when I belittle him so that Heero can save him from my twisted, evil machinations and certain suicide with lengthy, out of character explanations of the origins of his True Love for Duo."

Dorothy frowned. "Nope. Just stalk Heero."

Relena rifled through the envelope.

"Oh for God's sake," Baron J snapped. "01, take that annoying twit off and woo her already. I want you married by nightfall!"

"Stick it up your ass sideways, bionic boy!" Duo snarled.

"You're right, just Heero. Dammit anyway. It's not like he's ever showed any interest in me. Oh well, at least he's got a nice ass." Relena sighed and stuffed the papers back into her bodice. She batted her eyelashes at Heero. "You are _so_ manly! I'm sure you can win the heart of any princess you desire. You have mine!"

"Don't overdo," Dorothy grunted.

"Everyone's a critic," Relena grumped.

Heero frowned at his fork. _Treize-baby_!?!

"So, Yuy, how _do_ you plan on wooing your princess?" _Treize-baby_ asked with a lift of his eyebrow.

Heero wanted to smack him. "I am researching the mission." He locked eyes on _Treize-baby_. "I will not permit any one else to attempt to woo the not-princess."

 _Treize-baby_ smirked.

Duo glared.

Relena gasped and did the chest-heaving thing.

Dorothy snickered and put her hand in Howard's lap.

"Damn straight you won't, 01," Baron J agreed, glaring at Khushrenada. "Howard and I have a deal and that doesn't include slick war weasels from Oz."

 _Treize-baby_ lifted an eyebrow. "A deal? Does Princess Duo come with a dowry as interesting as her charms?"

Baron J gave an it's-for-me-to-know-and-you-not-to-find-out harumph and stabbed his mashed potatoes with a fork. Duo jumped to his feet, the knife waving in Kushrenada's direction. "Charms? I'll fucking show you charms, you bastard. Don't sit there and fucking insult me. Save it for Princess Pink!"

 _Treize-baby_ smirked at Duo. "I admire a woman with spirit."

Duo growled something unprintable and slouched back into his chair to pick at his nails with the dagger.

Relena giggled. "Duo is first born," she said, batting her eyes at Heero. "Whoever marries her gets the kingdom. It's why our love is doomed to tragedy, like Desdemona and Othello!"

Dorothy choked on her ale.

Duo grinned. "You do know that Othello strangled her, right, sister-mine?"

Relena glared at him. "I'm surprised you can even read, you pugnacious little street rat."

The smile glittered on _Treize-baby's_ face. "I see. As nice as the Sweeper Kingdom is, Princess Duo, I believe it's you who is the real prize."

Heero glared at _Treize-baby_ in warning before checking to see how Duo would react to the flattery.

Duo was visibly not amused. "I have to warn you, Treize-baby, if you go all Chivalry Boy on me, I'm gonna throw food at you."

 _Treize-baby_ frowned. "Chivalry Boy?"

Heero frowned. He definitely did _not_ like _Treize-baby_.

"Knight in Shiny Armor." Duo batted his eyelashes and clutched his hands to his chest. "Oh Princess Duo, your eyes, your beauteous, wonderful eyes!" Then he flopped onto the floor in an immediate and energetic rendition of a dying carp.

"And I thought Relena over-acted," Dorothy muttered.

 _Treize-baby_ smiled. "While you do have very pretty eyes, Princess Duo, I find your right hook more beauteous."

Duo's head popped up and he shared a knowing grin with _Treize-baby_. Heero's fingers curled into fists.

"Right hook?" G asked faintly, his hands falling into his lap. "Princess Duo hit you?"

 _Treize-baby_ never quit smiling that weaselly, oily, hair-implants, gold chains, and polyester shirt unbuttoned to the navel, Larry Dallas from that stupid situation comedy the not-princess had insisted he watch on late night television smile. _Treize-baby_ resembled one of those creeps that the onna's parents had forced her to dine with in that Greek wedding movie. "Tried. She's never had formal training in the art of fisticuffs, but she certainly seems to have a natural talent for it."

Heero's glare deepened. The not-princess's fighting abilities sounded so lascivious when put in that manner and in that tone of voice. It certainly didn't help that Duo was basking in the compliment. Heero reminded himself that he was not permitted to shoot the not-princess and ate a bite of completely tasteless food. It lodged in his throat and had to be beaten into submission with a drink of water.

"Aww, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me." The not-princess dimpled at Heero. "Except for what you said when we met, Yuy."

Heero's glare lightened into a thoughtful brow furrow. "I said many things when we met, baka."

The not-princess just smiled. "Baka means resourceful, intelligent, utterly gorgeous, and all-around great guy."

Dorothy snorted. "It means idiot, baka."

Duo stuck his tongue out at her.

"It does mean idiot," Heero added. For some reason, it satisfied him when Duo stuck his tongue out at him as well.

 _Treize-baby_ arched an eyebrow. "What was it that Yuy said?"

Duo grinned. "He said I was not the princess."

Heero frowned. "You're not the princess."

Duo leaped to his feet, the mangled tiara waving in Heero's face. "I am too the fucking princess, Yuy! You'd better fucking get it through your thick skull that I'm the fucking princess. Here's the goddamned tiara to fucking prove it! Don't make me kick your ass all over the fucking place!"

This made absolutely no sense. Heero stared at Duo's furious face. "You're the princess?" he tried, hesitantly.

"God fucking damned right I am." Duo dropped into his seat and glowered for good measure.

Dorothy didn't bother hiding her hoot of laughter.

"I don't understand," Heero said.

"Neither do I," Khushrenada agreed.

Heero elected to ignore him at the moment. "Why are you getting upset when I say you're not the princess, but you—"

"I do _not_ want to talk about this, Yuy." Duo bared his teeth.

"It means she likes you," Dorothy added with a giggle. Heero and _Treize-baby_ turned twin glares o' death on Dorothy who wasn't the least bit intimidated. "Well, she does."

"I don't have to sit here and listen to this shit," Duo growled under his breath, but he didn't move.

Heero thought about this for a few moments, but couldn't wring a logical syllogism out of any of it. He flicked his eyes in Duo's direction for a moment, the baka was stabbing his meat with his fork as if he expected it to fling itself at him and chomp on his throat. This sudden murder of roast beef didn't clarify anything; it just made it worse. This was getting him nowhere. Heero frowned. "Do you like me?"

Duo froze, mid-stab. "Uh."

Heero waited patiently.

"Yes, Duo, do you like Yuy?" Dorothy asked sweetly. Heero tossed her a glare; she wasn't helping.

Duo suddenly grinned again, tilting his head and smirking up at Heero out of the corners of his eyes. "I like the way you clean your guns."

"I have been informed of this."

Relena kicked Duo under the table. "My Heero doesn't clean his guns for trashy tramps like you, Duo Maxwell!"

"He cleans his guns so he can kill people with them," Baron J snapped. "Well, Princess? Do you like him or not?"

Duo bristled, but said nothing.

"I like him a lot," Relena assured Baron J. "My Heero's absolutely perfect!"

Baron J gritted his teeth. "The other princess."

All eyes landed on Duo, except for Relena's. And King Howard's. Duo turned beet red and sank down a little in his seat. "Well, I guesso."

Baron J clapped his hands, er, hand and claw together. "Great! You can be married in five minutes. G, get the priest."

"I'm _not_ marrying him," Duo hissed. "And you can't make me!"

Heero frowned. "But you said I had a cute butt."

"She _did_?" Dorothy gasped in exaggerated awe.

"I did not!" Duo leaped for the anger.

"Yes, you did. You said you would kick my cute butt all the way back to the mountains."

Duo looked puzzled.

"You did," Dorothy said. "I was spank—er, advising his majesty and I heard you yelling."

Duo snorted in disgust, his cheeks turning a suspicious shade of red. "Heero is obsessed with the cuteness of butts."

"I'm dying to know," Khushrenada said smoothly, leaning on his elbows, "what does the cuteness of your butt have to do with marrying the princess?"

"Ooh," Dorothy added, mimicking _Treize-baby's_ position, "do tell, Heero."

Even Baron J managed to look interested.

"Women want pecs and a cute butt," Heero quoted.

Duo's mouth dropped open. "You mean you..." He shook his head. "You've been..." He squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked owlishly. "All of that was because..." Then he started laughing.

Heero frowned and reminded himself that he was not permitted to shoot the not-princess. He briefly considered a flesh wound, a round in the meaty part of the thigh or the arm that would heal quickly and make Heero feel a lot better, but he discarded that notion as he was unlikely to get the not-princess to agree to marry him if he shot him. Of course the not-princess was unpredictable and he might think of it as a courtship ritual. His fingers twitched to pull out his gun, but he decided not to take the chance. The not-princess grinned up at him, still sniggering. He glared. This was humiliating.

Duo slung himself around Heero, giving him a quick, smooch on the cheek. "God, you're so cute sometimes."

Heero had a choice between impertinent, dainty, or straining for effect. His glare promised Duo instant death. "Omae o korosu."

Duo just laughed, licked Heero's cheek from the curve of his tightly clenched jaw to his glaring eyeball, and toddled off.

Dorothy grinned. "I do believe you've figured out how to woo your princess, Heero."

Heero frowned. He had?

.

_Several hours later...._

.

Heero was stalking his prey through the corridors of Peacemillion. It was a dangerous hunt in that his prey was dangerous, particularly when cornered or captured. It was made even more dangerous by the presence of a herd of hunting beasts who were also after his quarry. These beasts, ignominiously enough, consider him game as well. Particularly the lead beast.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

He flinched, backing into a darkened corner of the hallway, and checked for stray girls in the vicinity. The coast was clear. He ghosted down the hall, keeping his back toward the wall and utilizing every bit of cover he could find. He was taking a roundabout way to his prey, but the female beasts were smart and had the only safe corridors to the prey well covered. He ducked into an alcove as two stray girls prowled past, chatting about chiffon wedding dresses. He waited, with infinite patience, until they rounded a corner and their voices faded. Then he waited some more. They were not above lying in wait to ambush an unsuspecting male. Heero had learned this the hard way.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

He cringed and pulled out both of his Desert Eagles. She was getting closer. He tried to remember that he wasn't permitted to shoot princesses, but he didn't think he could refrain.

"Psst, Spandex Boy!" As a whisperer, Duo was a washout. His voice bounced down the hallways. A few moments later, squeals from the patrolling female beasts echoed back. "Shit! Follow me! Hurry!"

Duo streaked past him in a yellow thing of some sort. It might have been a dress at one time but it now resembled a kilt that had been through a war without washing. Heero looked behind him to see the two that had passed by earlier bearing down on his position. He holstered his guns and raced after Duo. The not-princess, he noted, was acceptably fleet-footed and agile. He took the hallways like a sprinter, avoiding obstacles with the grace of a gazelle, and plowing through a fangirl phalanx with the tenacity of a bull elephant. He threw himself through a set of side doors, rolling across the dirt of the practice area before gaining his feet and racing, ducked low, to a building. Heero darted after him, running a zig-zag pattern to throw off the aim of his pursuers. Duo leaped through a wooden door with Heero right behind him.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was really unsanitary. It was unsanitary in ways that broke through the very definition of unsanitary. Apparently, no one could be bothered to pee in the urinals. Among other things. Heero made a note to speak with King's Advisor G about potty training the men at arms.

"The Horde is terrified of the men's room. Even Relena won't come in here," Duo said, leaning against a graffiti-covered wall and panting hard. "We're safe here for a while."

Heero could see why. He was a soldier, used to the muck, gore, and filth of the battlefield. This, well, this was worse. This was the reason why he didn't use the men's room at Baron J's castle either. He might be a soldier, but he was a fastidious one.

"So, how are things going?" Duo asked casually.

Small talk. Heero recognized the interrogation tactic. It was not one he employed since his demeanor was not suited to it. He grunted.

"Yeah, it's been like that for me, too. You got any plans for this wooing stuff? Gonna let me in on 'em? Do they include cleaning your guns? Boxers or briefs? Hey, did you really let Relena kiss you before she left? I know she's been trying to stuff her hanky down your shorts for the past two days, but this kissing thing? What was that all about? And damn, what the hell is up with that Baron J guy? Is his face for real? And that thing on his arm? Did he do that on purpose or something? It's freaky, totally, completely wrong, weird, and creepy in a not so nice way. I'd hate to meet up with him in a dark alley unless I had a Howitzer. Hey, you ever used a Howitzer? I got to shoot one and oh my god what a rush! It was the first thing that I ever made go boom. Then I—"

Heero leaped forward and clamped his hand over Duo's mouth. "Baka."

"Mmph mppmhhph mppphhmph." Then the baka licked his hand. "Mmmmmmmmph," the not-princess moaned, then licked his hand again. The not-princess's lips parted, dragging slowly along the soft flesh of his inner palm, and the teeth came out to nibble.

Heero froze in complete shock. He had neither known that his hand was so sensitive nor that it had a direct nervous connection to his groin. He dropped his hand immediately, trying to decide if he should back away or get closer.

"That sign wasn't here last time I hid out. Don't eat the big white mint. Whattaya think that means? It's not like they have a snack machine in here and why not eat a mint? Mints are good if you have bad breath, not that you have bad breath. Hey, what brand of toothpaste do you use anyway? You always seem to have mmph!"

Heero pressed his mouth to the not-princess's, shutting him up instantly. He was only doing this to shut the baka up. He recalled that this tactic had been particularly effective in shutting him up when the not-princess had employed it in the old castle. He very carefully did not think about how interesting the experience had been the last time, when the not-princess had shut him up. While very carefully not thinking about how interesting the experience had been last time, he decided to use it as a sort of control in an experiment. Approaching this via the scientific method would be in his interests, he concluded.

The least satisfying aspect of the kiss the not-princess had given him had been the lack of motion. As he recalled, it had been all pressure and startled breathing. Not that it hadn't been—he sorted through his list of adjectives carefully—nice, but it had been a little—he flicked open the mental thesaurus—bland. Of course, he didn't know how first kisses were supposed to be and he hadn't had his lips on anyone except the not-princess and a CPR practice dummy. Despite the fact that the not-princess hadn't been moving any more than the CPR practice dummy had been moving, he decided he much preferred the not-princess. Mostly because the not-princess was warm and mostly because the not-princess was making these interesting little squeaky moaning sounds in the back of his throat. He'd never really considered sounds as anything more than a means of acquiring or dispensing information or a method of locating the enemy, but these sounds were ones he wanted to hear again.

Experimentally, he shifted his lips a little, rubbing them across Duo's a bit. He was rewarded with a flush of heat in his mouth that slithered down his spine to his groin. He revised his earlier observation. It wasn't his hand that was connected to his groin, it was the not-princess that was connected to his groin. He wasn't sure how that worked, exactly, but he was extremely interested in finding out.

He moved his lips again, pulling a little bit at Duo's bottom lip. He was given a fresh reward, one that was almost as good as the—he couldn't think of an appropriate noun at the moment—whatever was happening in his groin. Duo groaned and leaned toward him. He pulled at Duo's top lip with his, just to see if he could feel that groan vibrate against his mouth, and found himself with both a hot groan and sheen of moisture from Duo's mouth. He couldn't taste it, just feel it. Twisting his head just a little, he opened his lips enough to take in both of Duo's, then drew them together slowly. Nerves crackled along his face as lipflesh clung to lipflesh. The inside of his lips bore traces of Duo that he could almost, but not quite taste. It wasn't enough.

Sliding his tongue forward, slowly, he eased it past his lips and tasted. Duo's flavor exploded in his mouth and he suddenly couldn't breathe. Oddly, there was no panic, just ragged sucks at the air through his nose. All he could smell was Duo's flesh. All he could taste was Duo's flesh. All he could feel was Duo's flesh. All he wanted was more of Duo's flesh. He opened his mouth wider and licked Duo's lips again. A breathy groan roiled between them, but not in Duo's voice. He cupped Duo's cheeks in his palms, holding him still for more tasting.

Duo moaned, vibrating, and pressed against him. Something inside of Heero twisted and writhed. It was unfamiliar and unbalanced him. The only anchor he had was Duo and for some reason, despite any logic or rationale, that was all the anchor Heero wanted. He leaned into his not-princess, vaguely aware that they were moving until they stopped, Duo backed against a wall and Heero pinned him there. Not to be outdone, Duo rubbed his body against Heero's with a catlike grace that shot directly to Heero's groin. Another definite sign that it was Duo that was directly connected to his penis. Just the _thought_ of Duo directly connected to his penis made Heero want to start shredding clothes and thrusting.

Since he couldn't do any constructive thrusting with the spandex and the dress-turned-kilt thing between his penis and Duo's flesh—Heero felt himself shuddering at the thought of Duo's flesh—he substituted by thrusting his tongue into Duo's mouth. The only thing he could hear was the blood roaring in his head and the only thing he could see was a dawning blackness. He couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. Duo's hands curled into his hair, tugging him closer, and his hips wiggled.

Heero growled and used a solid grip on the braid to tilt Duo's head into a better angle when his not-princess sucked on his tongue. Yes, he thought, yes, this was good. Good. And thrust. With his tongue and his hips. And hold the baka still because he was wiggling. Maybe not so still because the wiggling was feeling good, yes good. And thrust. And wiggling baka. He licked his baka's teeth and the roof of his baka's mouth and the inside of his baka's lips and did it all over again. And it was good. Very good. And thrust. Oh yes, thrust was good. Just if he could get closer to his baka. A full body press against the wall was okay, but not good enough. He needed more.

Duo apparently agreed with Heero's assessment of the situation because he abruptly jumped in Heero's grip and wrapped both of his legs around Heero's waist. His hips tilted and suddenly there was only a thin layer of spandex and a thin layer of cotton between Heero's penis and Duo's flesh. Heero shuddered and did the only thing any man could hope to do under these circumstances. Thrust. And it was good. It wasn't just good. It was Duo-moaning-into-his-mouth, groin-grinding-with-groin, when-did-it-get-so-hot-in-here, it-feels-like-I'm-self-destructing good. It was _gooood_.

It was, in fact, so _gooood_ that he didn't hear the people outside until someone shouted in laughter right outside the door and then make some loud, overly obnoxious commentary. Heero privately acknowledged that this was a public restroom after all, and it was reasonable for people to assume that they were permitted to use it. After a moment's thought, he concluded that while it was reasonable to assume they could use the men's room, it was _not_ reasonable of them to actually use it at the moment. He was using it and not inclined to either share nor cater to an audience. He was with his baka and he was going to make sure they respected that.

Turning, he leaned his back against the wall. The not-princess didn't appear to notice the interlopers swapping toilet humor, all he did do was lock his legs tightly around Heero's hips and slither his tongue into Heero's mouth. He let himself get distracted by this, groaning as that tongue rolled over the roof of his mouth and shot sensation directly to his groin. That confirmed it. His baka was directly connected to his penis. That particular fact made Heero groan again and grind himself against his not-princess.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard the door slam open. The dirty joke involving something about elephants, mayonnaise, and a rosebush broke off as whomever was coming in noticed the not-princess humping Heero's hips against the wall. Heero squeezed the not-princess's deliciously ripe butt cheek with his right hand, whipped out a Desert Eagle with his left hand, and pulled the trigger. Duo gasped, arching his back and thrusting hard into Heero. Oops, wrong trigger. He pointed the .50AE at the door without looking and squeezed the trigger with his left index finger. The gun bucked in his hand and someone shrieked. He emptied the clip in the general direction of the shriek, then holstered the gun, satisfied that whomever had the gall to interrupt them had gotten the message. Heero opened his eyes and found himself blinking into a set of glazed, baka eyes. Funny, he hadn't even realized that he had his eyes closed.

"Talk about a kiss that set off fireworks," the not-princess breathed. "The earth moved. The room exploded. Fuck me that was good." Those long legs slid down Heero's until the baka stood, swaying, on his own feet. "Holy shit. Can we do that again?"

"Hn." Heero couldn't get his tongue to work well enough for speech. The only thing his tongue seemed capable of doing was sliding back inside of the not-princess. He nodded, just in case it wasn't clear. The smile that lit Duo's face made him want to kiss his not-princess all over again.

"We'd better go," Duo said. "It's about time for practice to be over and the guys'll be coming in here."

"Hn," Heero grunted. Duo hadn't noticed that he'd emptied a clip of .50 caliber hollow points about a foot and a half behind his head?

Duo blinked. "Hey, what's with all the bullet holes?"


	10. Wedding Cake Is the Anti-Viagra

"I'm still saying that it was fireworks, Dirty Harry," Duo said, sticking his nose in the air and wrinkling it. Heero sorted through his list of adjectives and decided on adorable and sexy.

"I emptied a clip into the door, baka."

"Fireworks."

Heero just flicked his eyes toward the not-princess and tried to keep the amusement out of his expression.

"I think I'm really getting into the smell of gun oil." Duo draped himself more comfortably over Heero's shoulders, his breath sweeping along the side of Heero's neck. At first, it had been uncomfortable, but then he'd thought about direct connections, penis, and Duo's flesh and it had been uncomfortable in a whole new way that he never wanted to end. "God, who knew you could kiss like that? You licked the inside of my eyeballs and turned my knees into oatmeal and turned me into a big puddle of Duo-goo."

Duo-goo?

"You said we could do it again. We should do it now. C'mon, you don't wanna waste time cleaning your gun when you could be sucking face, right?"

Sucking face?

"I could suck on your tongue and you could grunt. We'd both be happy."

"I have to maintain my weapon. It's important to clean it once it has been discharged."

"How about you maintain your weapon and I'll maintain your _gun_."

Heero thought about that. He turned it around in his mind, poking at it with a stick, and tried to force it to make sense in some way. Mission failed. "Baka."

Duo licked his neck. "Yeah, you can't get enough of me."

Heero put the solvent away and picked up the gun oil. "You have a cute butt."

Duo growled and threw himself bodily across the room, landing on the bed with a huff of glowering disgust. "I'm not marrying you."

Heero had spent part of his morning deep in research. He was nothing if not thorough. The various magazines he'd appropriated from the rooms of one Zechs Marquise had been only somewhat informative with pictorial essays on such things as eye contact while opening your mouth, spreading butt cheeks, and standing around naked with your head thrown back and an idiotic, gape-mouthed expression on your face. Heero had returned the magazines and had been systematically searching the room for more informative material when Marquise had returned with two giggling stable boys. Marquise had been kind enough to provide a twenty minute practical demonstration on jacking off while the stable boys had provided a practical demonstration on licking. Heero noted that licking was a very thorough sort of activity before Marquise joined the two on the bed. Unfortunately, Heero had an appointment to clean his guns with Duo and could not remain for the practical demonstration on sucking. He made a mental to note to interrogate Marquise on the issue later.

"Are you even listening to me?" the not-princess demanded in a princess shriek.

"No."

"Aaargh!" The not-princess's sudden facial contortions somewhat resembled the expressions on the faces of the men in Marquise's magazines, but did not seem to match Marquise's when the two stable boys had attached their mouths to his penis.

That was an interesting thought. He had skipped out on both sexual education and the all night pornographic movie sessions that Baron J's men at arms had engaged in so his sexual knowledge was limited to the two kisses he'd shared with Duo and what he'd seen this morning. The penis sucking activity wasn't something he wished to do himself. Heero's eyes flicked to where the not-princess was now sprawled on his bed cheerfully mumbling death threats. Heero thought about direct connections, penis, and his baka. He abruptly decided to rephrase himself. The penis sucking activity wasn't something he wished to do without the not-princess.

The question that remained to be answered was did he wish to suck on the not-princess's penis or did he prefer to have the not-princess suck on his penis?

He frowned, returning his eyes to the gun oil and the pistol parts. It seemed to be such an unsanitary activity. Why would a man want to put his mouth on another man's urinary equipment? While he was aware of biological functions such as erections, it had not previously occurred to him to put an erection together with a mouth. It was obviously a pleasurable activity if Marquise's howls of encouragement were anything to go by, but it wasn't something he could imagine. He surreptitiously eyed the cursing baka on his bed and considered that mouth sucking on his penis. That thought shot straight to his groin and made it twitch. Apparently his not-princess had an indirection connection to his penis as well.

Would the not-princess suck on his penis? Or would the not-princess demand that Heero suck on his penis? Heero, unaccustomed as he was to indecisiveness, didn't think he could put his mouth on the not-princess's penis. It was unsanitary. Perhaps if the not-princess thoroughly washed it first. Of course, he was a soldier and he was accustomed to doing many things that were unsanitary. If he treated it as a mission, he would perform his duty without qualm. Would the not-princess find the idea of sucking on his penis distasteful? Heero was mission oriented, but the baka didn't seem to have any capabilities with logical thinking.

Calmly, he ducked the pillow the now shouting baka had flung his way. "Goddammit Heero! Quit ignoring me you psychopathic obsessive compulsive bastard!"

He decided that he would very much like to find out what it was like to have the not-princess suck on his penis.

"I am not interested in your theories on Chang Wufei's closet homosexuality, baka. You will not be testing those theories on Chang, either."

Duo gaped at him. "You were listening?"

"If you are interested in testing theories on homosexuality, you will only do so with me. Is that understood?"

The not-princess turned red and curled around himself on the bed. Today's dress, something sea green with sprigs of daisies on it, was rucked up around the not-princess's waist. Heero found himself thinking about sucking on the not-princess's penis all of the sudden.

"You want to test out homosexuality with _me_?" The baka sounded mystified by that.

Instead of reminding his baka about last night's kiss in the men's room, Heero just grunted.

"Hey, wait a minute. I'll test out homosexuality with anyone I want, Spandex Boy. I'm the fucking princess here and I don't belong to you."

Heero glared at the barrel in his palm. The baka was his. "You agreed to be rescued by me. You're mine."

Duo leaped to his feet, his fingers curled into fists. "I'm not marrying you, Yuy!"

"Hn."

"God! Talking to you is like talking to a fucking brick wall!" The not-princess shook his fist in Heero's direction, then stomped out of the room.

Heero decided that the wooing had gone rather well this morning.

.

_Lunch time again...._

.

Heero skipped the beginning of lunch to knock on Marquise's door. The blonde man opened the door, wearing nothing but a throw pillow held carefully in front of him. "What?"

"I have questions," Heero said abruptly.

The man stared at him for a moment, then started to close the door.

"About sexual activities."

Zechs froze, his eyes widening a bit. "What kind of questions?"

"I require intelligence on the sucking on a penis activity."

"Intelligence?" Zechs echoed faintly.

.

_Toward the end of lunch...._

.

Duo sighed. This was boring. Treize had spent the first half of lunch complimenting him on his various _charms_ as the man put it. Relena had alternately pouted and distracted Treize from flirting with Duo. Dorothy was p.o.'d at Howie again and spent her time alternately making Relena shriek and discussing hostile takeovers of various establishments in town and of neighboring kingdoms. Baron J ignored everyone in order to browbeat Howie over the marriage law. G, the asshole, spent his time alternately threatening Duo and attempting to cajole him into marrying Spandex Boy.

Speaking of, where the fuck was he anyway?

.

_Back in Zechs' room...._

.

Heero looked at Marquise dubiously, well, as dubiously as one can look without facial expression. "Are you _sure_?"

.

_Back at lunch...._

.

Duo avoided Treize's eyes yet again and wondered where Heero had got off to yet again. Sighing, he sucked the ketchup off of the end of his hot dog.

.

_Back in Zechs' room...._

.

Heero's eyes widened. "You can stick things in _there_?"

.

_Back at lunch...._

.

Duo groaned in frustration and dipped his hot dog in the ketchup on his plate. God, this was so boring. He swirled his tongue through the ketchup on the end of the hot dog.

.

_Back in Zechs' room...._

.

Heero blinked in astonishment at the blonde man who was nodding emphatically.

.

_Back at lunch...._

.

Duo held the end of his braid in front of his eyes with two fingers, casually inspecting each hair for split ends. With the fingers on his other hand, he absentmindedly slapped the end of his hot dog against his tongue. Maybe he should switch from ketchup to mayonnaise.

.

_Back at Zechs' room...._

.

Heero closed his mouth with a snap and thought through the intelligence he'd just been briefed on. Zechs smirked as if it were all some big joke. He nodded once, sharply. "Ninmu ryoukai."

.

_A short while later...._

.

Heero slipped into the main hall and paused in the shadows. His eyes narrowed and took in every nook and cranny of the place. No Princess Relena. He silently crossed the floor to the table where the Not-Princess Duo was hunched over his plate. He had his forehead braced on the palms of his hands and a hot dog dangling out of his mouth. He was, apparently, asleep. Heero felt a small smile tease at his lips. Only his baka would fall asleep while eating.

"Baka, wake up."

Duo snorted and nearly choked on the hot dog when he bit into it. "Heero? Where the hell have you been?"

"Research."

"Research? On what?"

"Penis sucking."

Duo's jaw dropped open. The inside of his mouth wasn't his most attractive feature, Heero decided. Duo shook his head, as if to clear it. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say that you were researching penis sucking."

Heero nodded.

"Penis sucking."

Heero nodded again.

" _Penis_ sucking."

Heero frowned and nodded.

"Penis _sucking_."

"Yes!" If he said it again, Heero was going to strangle him with his own braid.

"Why were you researching penis sucking?"

Heero glared. "I do not understand the appeal in that activity."

The baka was obviously fighting back a grin. His mouth twitched like a two year old on espresso and his eyes twinkled. "Do you understand its appeal now?"

Heero's glare deepened. "No. It seems to be an unsanitary activity to engage in."

"Unsanitary?"

For some reason, Heero felt the need to blush. "It is unsanitary to put your mouth on urinary equipment."

"Urinary equipment?"

Heero ground his teeth together. "Must you repeat everything I say, baka?"

The grin exploded on the not-princess's face. "You have an adorable way of putting things."

Heero gave his baka a death glare. He was a soldier. Soldiers were _not_ adorable.

"Anyway, what'd you find out about this penis sucking activity of yours? Where did you do your research? I know this place is loaded with porn. Oh, yeah, do _not_ get any ideas from Dorothy's porno collection. The woman is a totally off her rocker sadist. Most people aren't into that. Did you know that Tro can suck his own penis? I shit you not. I didn't believe it when Q told me, so I hid in their closet. Goddamn Q is a lucky son of a bitch. Tro is flexible. I mean flex-i-ble. Swear to God I didn't know his body could bend like that. 'Course, it doesn't hurt that he's hung like a horse. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Heero very carefully unfisted his hands. Satisfied that he appeared perfectly calm, he said, with a steady voice, "I'm flexible as well."

"Kawaii!"

Ka—what? Heero frowned.

"You're so cute when you get all jealous and pout like that."

"Cute?" Heero was rather impressed with his matter-of-fact tone and the lack of expression on his face. "Jealous!"

"You're adorable when you growl."

Heero glared. "I am _not_ jealous. I am _not_ cute. I am _not_ adorable. I _am_ a soldier." Heero's growl alone had sent bigger men than the not-princess running in abject fear.

His baka grinned up at him, obviously not the least bit intimidated. "You're an adorably cute, jealous soldier."

Heero gritted his teeth and reminded himself that he was not permitted to shoot his not-princess. Not even a little bit. Just because he knew it would irritate his baka, he grunted. A very long measure of satisfaction poured through him as those eyes narrowed in distinct annoyance.

Duo poked him in the belly with a finger. "Lookie here, buddy, you're cute and that's final!"

Barton was hung like a horse and Heero was _cute_. He glowered at Duo.

Duo glowered back. "Well fuck, Spandex Boy, I have no idea what you're hung like. Don't get all pissy at me because you never dropped trou with a boner."

Heero felt the muscles in his face try to go slack and forced them into a glare. He'd said that out loud? Dropped tr— "Dropped trou with a boner? Explain."

Duo rolled his eyes and flopped forward. The macaroni and cheese he hadn't eaten splattered along the dress. It was, Heero noted, no longer green. It didn't actually look like a dress anymore either. It was ripped and stained. There appeared to be any number of burns on part of it. It was a dullish gray with tiny beige splotches. The daisies.

"A boner is a colloquialism for an erect penis," Duo said slowly, as if lecturing on anthropology to a bunch of freshmen college football players. "Trou is a shortening of trousers. Dropped trou with a boner means dropping your pants while you have an erect penis."

While that made sense, the patronizing tone rubbed Heero the wrong way. "Colloquialisms," Heero said, coating his voice with sarcasm.

Duo threw his plate at him with a glare. "Watch it, Yuy."

Ducking the plate easily, Heero grunted.

Those funny colored eyes narrowed. "Oh you didn't."

Heero smirked.

"You bastard!" Duo threw himself at Heero. This time his aim was better. With a grunt, they both fell to the floor. Heero felt the jar of the stone through his back and shoulders while the not-princess landed comfortably on top of him. He didn't stay comfortable. Duo reared up, one hand braced on Heero's chest, the other one pulled back, curled into a fist. Heero caught it with a startled grunt before it connected with his face. Duo exploded in fury, yanking back his other fist. Heero caught the wrist before he could throw it. "Bastard!"

"Hn."

Eyes flashing pure fury, the not-princess shrieked in rage.

Heero decided he liked that and smirked again. Half a second later he had Duo's foot in his throat, shoving his head back and making it difficult to breathe. There was a knife point in his ribs, despite the hand he had clamped around that wrist. Heero was impressed. Another half a second later had the baka flat on his back, the hand holding the knife shoved to the stone floor above his head and one leg wrapped around Heero's waist. The other was pinned by Heero's thighs.

"You're flexible," Heero noted. "Are you hung like a horse as well?"

Duo grinned unrepentantly. "You know it, baby."

"I thought _Treize_ was your baby."

Duo's grin widened. "Jealous much?"

Heero glared. "I'm not jealous."

"That's okay, buddy, you're cute when you're jealous."

Heero bared his teeth. "I'm _not_ jealous."

Duo licked Heero's nose. "You're jealous and adorable."

His glare deepened. He was displeased with his baka, he was _not_ going to allow notions of licking and kissing to get in the way of that. "I am a soldier."

"You're a jealous, adorable soldier with a cute butt."

The only thing Heero felt at the moment was acute frustration. "Then why won't you marry me!"

Duo looked vaguely nonplused. "I don't wanna die a virgin."

Could the baka make sense at least _once_ in his life? Did everything that came out of the boy's mouth have to be completely illogical with no thought to communication? "What?"

"Look, you get married, your gonads dry up. Wedding cake is the Anti-Viagra."

Heero tried to understand, he really did. "Would you please explain that in English?"

"God, you're dense. You get married and you quit having sex! Is _that_ clear enough for you?"

Heero glared. "You don't have to shout."

"Well you just don't seem to get it." His baka had his face wrinkled up. It was adorable.

"If we married, we would not have sex?" Heero frowned, considering this. A week ago it wouldn't have mattered in the least. Sex wasn't something he considered mission essential so it wasn't something he considered doing. Now, however, with his baka wriggling around beneath him, sex was turning into one of the primary objectives to accomplishing the mission. Any mission. Even a mission that involved getting out of bed in the morning.

Duo nodded solemnly. "Yep."

"Unacceptable."

Duo blinked. "You really mean that?"

Heero glared. "Baka. So you will not marry me because you want to have sex with me?"

Duo turned an interesting shade of red. "Well, yeah."

Heero nodded. "Acceptable."

Duo blushed deeper. "Yeah."

.

_Later that evening...._

.

Shortly after their moment in the great hall, the Horde had descended and hauled a kicking and screaming not-princess off to the showers. Heero was intensely interested in how they subdued him so easily with so little trouble. Chang would be furious to know that a handful of females had prevailed where he had failed. Duo was now a seething mass of not-princess in a light purple dress. It was in remarkably good condition considering that he'd been in it for over an hour. His hair was braided with a few strands dangling around his face and spilling down the front of his dress. They'd been curled by some enterprising female. Heero shuddered to think of forcing a hot iron of any sort around his not-princess when he wasn't willing to have it there. The not-princess was wearing another tiara, this one unbent, and a cross on a dainty gold necklace. If it wasn't for the I'm-gonna-murder-someone-heinously expression, he almost looked unhomicidal.

"You're looking especially lovely this evening, Princess Duo," Khushrenada said, sipping at his goblet. "What's put the blush in your cheeks?"

"I'm gonna fucking kill someone!" Duo roared.

"Duo!" the Princess Relena gasped. "Language, you uncouth peasant!"

Heero looked up from his plate and met his baka's furious eyes. "How?"

"Heero, my love, don't encourage her. She's such a heathen," the Princess Relena chided, leaning over to cut his steak up for him.

Duo grinned. "I'm gonna do it with a spoon and some fertilizer among other things."

"Fertilizer?" Dorothy frowned. "Do tell."

Interesting, the not-princess was familiar with explosives. Heero was impressed.

"How is the wooing coming along?" Khushrenada interrupted before Duo could launch into an explanation.

"He almost fucked me in the men's room," Duo said cheerfully.

"Wonderful!" King's Advisor G clapped. "You've been compromised. Ruined. Your reputation is sullied. You _have_ to marry him now."

Heero glared at the long nosed idiot. He wasn't getting married until he knew whether or not he wanted to have sex. At the moment he did, but he wouldn't know that for certain until he actually had sex.

Duo glared at King's Advisor G, too. "I do not."

King's Advisor G matched him glare for glare. "Do too."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Children," Khushrenada said with gentle reproof. "I'm sure that the Princess's honor is intact."

"Yeah, no thanks to the fucking army," Duo growled, glaring at his plate.

"Duo! Language!" The Princess Relena leaned closer to Heero. "Ignore her, my prince, she's always been so common."

Heero ignored her. "Where did you learn about explosives, baka?"

Unaccountably, King's Advisor G ducked his head and blushed. Heero decided that this activity was far more pleasant on Duo than on King's Advisor G and far more pleasant on King's Advisor G than on the Princess Relena.

Duo grinned. "G-man taught me. You get him drunk and it's all about blowing the fuck out of everything. Yeah, we had us some fun!"

Heero permitted himself a very brief smile to let the baka know he was pleased with this information.

King's Advisor G glared at Duo.

"Fascinating," Khushrenada stated, smiling at Duo. "Princess Duo, I was down at the stables this afternoon and I've heard many stories about your horse. How is it that a lady such as yourself managed to tame what the stable hands call the demon?"

Duo grinned. "Deathscythe is the best horse ever." The grin faltered imperceptibly, then fixed itself firmly. "I missed him."

Heero grunted.

"Horses," Baron J snorted. He turned his goggle-glare on Heero. "When's the wedding 01?"

Heero stared back impassively. "Undetermined."

"Unacceptable," Baron J snapped. "Report."

"Progress has stalled."

Duo snorted. "More not like not gonna fuckin' happen!"

Baron J ignored that in favor of Heero. "Why?"

"Undetermined." This wasn't precisely a lie. Heero was still figuring out the sex thing, once he drew his conclusions, he could act on the marry mission.

"Unacceptable. You will redouble your efforts. I expect results quickly, 01."

Duo snorted. "Jeez, take a pill, Doczilla."

Doczilla. Heero very carefully did not giggle. "I am conducting research in courting. Intelligence is incomplete. Preliminary reconnaissance indicates that accepted courting practices are inapplicable in this mission. New techniques will have to be developed. This requires more research. The not-princess is not cooperative in this endeavor. This is detrimental to the ultimate success of the mission."

Duo batted his eyes at Heero. "Goddamn you turn me on when you talk like a brainless puppet."

Heero chose to ignore that. "I cannot guarantee swift results."

The Princess Relena decided that it would be appropriate to giggle and press herself against Heero. He leaned away from her, but any farther and he would fall off the chair and into Dorothy's lap. The bodice of her dress was made of black chain mail. At this juncture, he could not tell which would be worse.

"That blonde twit seems to know something about this sort of thing," Baron J grunted, glaring at the Princess Relena. "Have you interrogated her?"

"No," the Princess Relena giggled. "I would be soooo happy to share _information_ with my Heero."

What had Duo said when he'd read that letter from that idiot knight? Oh yes, Heero suddenly felt like he'd been slobbered on. He eased a composed expression across his face and looked at Duo. Duo smiled, a genuine smile. "I'll save you," he mouthed silently.


	11. Nothing Says I Love You Like a Blow Job

Heero had spent the better part of the morning stuck in the Princess Relena's nauseatingly pink bedroom with the nauseatingly pink dressed Princess Relena in order to learn how to woo the baka. The very baka who had promised to save him from this, as that very baka put it, Pepto Bismol fate worse than death. Heero was _not_ happy.

The Princess Relena had lectured for two hours before abruptly deciding that Heero would benefit from what she called "hands on experience" and booted the lingering Horde out of the room. His task was to pretend to be himself—he couldn't believe she actually said that—and pretend that the Princess Relena was his baka. After that, he was apparently to engage in kissing. There were very few things Heero could think of that he'd rather do less than kiss the Princess Relena, waxing Baron J's back while he wore a string bikini, for example, would be preferable to kissing the Princess Relena. Even if Baron J was the man responsible for ordering him to take "love lessons" from the Princess Relena.

"Heero, you can't kiss me from way over there. Don't be silly, my love, you can't expect to woo your beloved princess when you're crouched under the desk and pointing a gun." The Princess Relena beamed at him and patted the pink quilt beside her. "Come sit with me."

Heero thumbed the hammer back on the Desert Eagle and shook his head.

"No need to be so shy, my love," she purred. "Don't worry, I'll find a way for us to be together."

Heero planned to self-destruct in the event of such an occurrence.

She gave him what she probably thought was a sultry come-hither look and trailed her fingers along the bed. "Come here, love, I have a—"

Pounding on the door followed by several feminine squeals of distress cut her off. The Horde. The Princess Relena gave the door a blistering glare that would have terrified a dragon into submission. "What?"

"Princess! They're asking for Sir Heero in the great hall!" One of the Horde squealed. Did they have to squeal constantly? It was annoying. It was even more annoying than having his not-princess ask him if they were there yet ten times every three seconds before yelling badly acted lines from Hamlet.

"Princess Duo has run away!" another squealed.

Heero was outraged. The baka had left without him? The baka had left him to the clutches of the Pink Menace? If he had run away, why would—wait one. If the not-princess had escaped, it was Heero's mission to rescue him again. Heero crawled out from beneath the desk. He didn't ease the hammer down and holster his gun until he was safely away from the Princess Relena.

.

_Thirty minutes later...._

.

Heero swung aboard Wing and set off toward the old castle by the mountains. Hopefully the baka would be waiting for him so they could go there together. He should have known that his not-princess would come through for him. The not-princess hadn't come to slay the Princess Relena and carry him off into the sunset on his fiery war-steed as the books indicated such rescues should be accomplished, but Heero would take what he could get at this point. This would be even better, he decided. He could continue to research sex at his own pace without Baron J ordering him to do things that were unacceptable. Additionally, the not-princess wouldn't be anywhere near _Treize-baby_. Winner would, no doubt, be enthusiastic in helping Heero keep the not-princess away from Barton and his flexibility. Since he now knew that the not-princess thought that his butt was cute, all that was left was to discover was if he were adequately hung. Apparently, to accomplish this, he would have to get an erection and take off his pants in front of the not-princess. While modesty had not been a part of his training, he was oddly reluctant to do so. He was in the midst of debating the merits of modesty when he topped a hill and found the not-princess, on a large, black horse, waiting for him at the bottom.

"Heya Heero. 'Bout time you got here. What took you?"

"The guards took their time deciding that your escape was bad and should be reported."

"Oh." Duo scrunched up his nose and scratched his head. "Hope you don't mind heading back to Wuffie's. It was the best I could do on short notice."

"It's a good idea."

Duo looked at him, his eyes wide. "Really?"

"Really, baka."

"You're not just saying that?"

"No."

Duo gave him a little smile. "Most people think I'm stupid and kinda worthless."

Heero frowned. "You're _not_ worthless, Duo Maxwell. You mean so much to me."

Duo's eyes got even bigger.

"When we met, during the war, I was the Perfect Soldier. I had no emotions. Doctor J, he trained me to be without emotions. Emotions are for the weak and I wasn't allowed to be weak. He beat me. He used drugs. I had to watch Pokemon reruns. I was tortured. I was a little boy, raised to be an assassin, first by an assassin and then by a sadistic scientist. I was trained to be a killer and I've never been good for anything else." Heero took a deep breath, his intense, burning, vulnerable yet steely with a will of fire tempered by a lonely heart, prussian blue eyes pleading with Duo for understanding.

Duo stared, his gorgeous, vibrant, amethyst, jewel-like, gently understanding eyes quivering with the intense, burning, vulnerable yet steely with a will of fire tempered by an equally lonely hearted need.

"And then, on my first mission, I was supposed to blow a bunch of Leos. One of them fell the wrong way and killed a little girl and her dog. I have nightmares about them every night. The little girl was the first one to ever give me a gift. And her sweet little puppy. Oh, Duo, I can't see a brown dog and not have nightmares. I murdered them! I killed before, but never like that. Never an innocent, never a pretty little girl and her sweet little puppy. Doctor J, when I told him of my guilt and my bad feelings, gave me retraining. Emotions are weak and they compromise the mission.

"And then I met you, on the beach. You shot me, twice, and all I could think was how beautiful you were and how full of life you were. Your eyes, your beautiful hair, your heart-shaped face. I saw your true colors, shining through. I saw your true colors, that's why I fell in love with you. I fell in love with you, even though you shot me. Twice. With a .45. And saved Relena. And when she threw herself between us, to stop you from killing me, oh, Duo, all I could think of was how much I loved you and how much I wanted to be with you. Every moment made me weaker. I knew you could save me from the man that I'd become. Looking back at the things I've done, I've played a part and kept you in the dark. I wanted to show you the shape of my heart. Sadness was so beautiful, loneliness was so tragical. I couldn't win the war, every moment made me weaker. Only you could save me from the man I'd become. I'd never felt like that before. I'd been an emotional void and I didn't even know I'd been waiting for someone to love until you came along.

"Throughout the war, you were always there, teaching me to be human. Teaching me to feel. I was terrified of revealing my secret love for you. I was terrified of losing the most important thing in my life, you. Your friendship, your fire, your love of life. I was afraid you'd reject me. I looked forward to all of those missions with you at the schools so I could spend time basking in the glory that is you even as I lay on my bed at night, pining for your life-giving love. When I was with you, I could feel the magic in the air. Being with you got me that way. I could see the sunlight dance across your face and I was swept away. All you had to do was breathe and I could feel it washing over me. It was like I was melting into you. You taught me to be a human and my love for you only grew. Every time I told you to shut up I was secretly telling you that I love you. I would watch your beautiful sleeping face just to be close to you. Oh, my precious love, if only you knew how much I wanted to tell you of my love for you, but I was so afraid that you'd hate me. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing disgust or hate for me in your beautiful amethyst eyes. You were my glorious Shinigami and I had to spend every moment secretly loving you that I could. It was like an addiction. But I was afraid, so I held onto my silence and loved you from afar.

"Oh, Duo! If only I could have told you then, we wouldn't have wasted all of these years apart. You complete me. If only I'd had the courage, my love!" Heero sniffled, tears pouring down his cheeks, glistening in the late morning sun. "You, my love, you taught me to be human. You taught me how to feel. You taught me to be a friend. You taught me to love."

Duo's jaw dropped all the way. "Uh...."

Heero glared at the not-princess in pure malice. "That's what I spent the morning doing."

Duo blinked. "Huh?"

"I spent the morning locked in a room with the Princess Relena and half of the Horde. I barely fended them off with a combination of small arms fire and hand-to-hand techniques while the Horde made up _that_. You could have let me know you were escaping so I could have escaped with you!" Was he yelling? He never yelled. Yelling accomplished nothing unless one couldn't be heard otherwise.

Duo rolled his eyes. "Trust the Horde to come up with something like _that_. I'm a teenaged male. Nothing says I love you like a blow job."

Heero wasn't done glaring, so he filed away the question of what a blow job was for later. He gritted his teeth to keep himself from upgrading from Defcon Yell to Defcon Shout. "You left me in the clutches of the Horde!"

Duo glared back. "Like you never left me in the clutches of the Horde. Who's the knight in shiny armor here? Huh? Who's the fucking damsel in distress? Figure it the fuck out, Yuy. You're supposed to save my goddamned ass from the Horde, not the other way around."

Heero's glare grew positively malevolent. "I'll rescue you when you need to be rescued, not when you want to be rescued. That's the mission."

"You and your precious mission!" Duo bellowed. "My gundam can kick your gundam's ass!"

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Heero bellowed back.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

They both froze, eyes locked on each other.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

As one, they looked at the crest of the hill to see the Princess Relena in her pink riding habit sitting on top of a long-suffering, pink horse with pink ribbons woven into every spare length of hair it owned. They both promptly kicked their horses into an all out run.

"Heeeeeeeeero! Wait my love!"

.

_A day and a half later...._

.

Heero and his baka slowly rode toward the old castle in the early evening. It hadn't taken them that long to lose the Princess Relena, but they hadn't slowed down much, just to be on the safe side. Her pink palfrey just didn't have the power that the gundams had. They hadn't stopped, instead they slept in the saddle and kept moving. The portcullis was up and the drawbridge down, so they simply rode into the bailey. Heero felt a sudden relief to be there.

"Duo!" Quatre shouted in obvious delight.

"Maxwell? You're back? Yuy! What is the meaning of this injustice!?" Wufei shouted in obvious outrage.

Trowa just sauntered forward to take the horses.

"Ol' Wuffie-pooh is gonna _think_ injustice if Relena follows you all the way here." Duo whispered with a chortle. Heero didn't think it was amusing in the least.

"I have fulfilled the rescue portion of the mission," Heero said flatly. "So we have returned."

"You were not supposed to return!" Wufei protested. "Did you marry him?"

Heero glared. "No."

"Hey, Tro, careful with my buddy Deathscythe here, he's a little cranky most of the time," Duo said cheerfully. "Kind of like Spandex Boy, only with bigger teeth."

Trowa gave Duo an amused almost smile, then took off with the horses. Deathscythe didn't seem to have the slightest problem with Trowa. Deathscythe had a serious problem with Heero. The horse had kicked at, bitten at, and attempted to run over Heero every time Heero was on the ground. If his own horse hadn't had such a problem with it, Heero would have stayed aboard to urinate. Naturally, the baka found his impromptu war with the horse to be incredibly amusing. As Trowa led the horse into the stable, Heero could have sworn the thing looked over its shoulder and grinned at him.

"You must leave immediately, Maxwell!" Wufei was yelling. "You cannot get married here!"

"I'm not getting married, Wuffer-diddles."

Wufei turned his full-force glare on Heero. "Why did you bring that idiot back here? You promised to take him away!"

Heero nodded once, curtly. "I did take him away. I did not say I would not bring him back. My mission is to woo the not-princess. I cannot do so at Peacemillion."

Duo elbowed him sharply. "Hey! I thought we settled this whole wooing bullshit."

"I will continue to woo you. Once we have sex and determine the outcome of the marry mission, I will cease wooing you as it will no longer be necessary."

"What if I don't wanna be wo—hey, wait just a goddamned minute. What if I don't wanna have sex with you? You never frickin asked my opinion on that, you know!"

Wufei's face contorted in a mixture of shock and horror, then sidled into confusion. He abruptly shook his head and twisted his face into the shock, horror, and then confusion expression again. He prodded his nose with his fingers, muttering under his breath in Cantonese.

"You want to have sex with me. You were humping me in the men's room," Heero stated.

Wufei's face did the shock, horror, and confusion expression thing, shortly followed by irritation and another nose prod. His cursing shifted to Mandarin.

Duo glared at Heero. "Just because I was getting off on your tongue down my throat and your hand squeezing my ass doesn't mean I want to have sex with you!"

Wufei pulled a toothpick out of a pocket and resolutely slapped on the shock and horror expression. He stuck the toothpick into his right nostril, which promptly began to nosebleed. "Injustice!" he shouted, after hiding the toothpick. He threw his arms around wildly. "Kisama, Maxwell! You will justly cease with this injustice! It's unjust!"

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it when you said you didn't want to marry me because you wanted to have sex with me!" Heero was losing his patience and there didn't seem to be anything he could do to hold onto it.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Spandex Boy! I said I wanted to fuck Wu-Stud, too!"

"Injustice!" Wufei roared.

"You will not test your theories on Chang's closet homosexuality on Chang!" Heero bellowed.

Wufei sighed and stuck the toothpick into his left nostril for a second nosebleed. He carefully stuffed the toothpick back into his pocket, then cleared his throat and thumped his chest with his fist. The shock and horror expression came back then he added a little bit of righteous indignation and a touch of embarrassment to the mix. "Injustice! Maxwell, I will justly cut off your unjust braid! This is unjust! It's injustice!"

Duo abruptly grinned. "You're so adorable when you're jealous!"

Heero gave Duo his most vicious glare. "Baka."

Quatre slapped his hand over his mouth, but that didn't stop the giggles from breaking through. Trowa handed a rag to Wufei and took up an amused position behind Quatre.

Wufei held the rag to his nose and shut his eyes in a long-suffering manner. "How long," he frowned, then unsuccessfully shifted his tone to something that sounded a bit more defeated, "are you planning on staying here?"

Heero blinked. "How long does it take to have sex?"

"Injustice!" Wufei turned on his heel and stomped into the war room.

Quatre and Duo exchange amused looks, then burst into laughter.

.

_A little while later...._

.

Heero locked his eyes on his not-princess who appeared to be relaxed and enjoying himself for the first time since they left the old castle. He was grinning with absolute glee and hadn't tried to dump his dinner all over his dress once. Heero did not permit the sight of his baka laughing about Peacemillion residents with Quatre to distract him from his planned interrogation. "Baka, why do I have to get an erection and remove my pants in order to find out what I am hung like and you were able to determine what that idiot knight was hung like by feel through both your clothing and his?"

Wufei spit his drink out all over the table.

The baka blinked once, then settled in to stare at Heero fixedly.

"You don't have to take your pants off. Just rub your erection against him hard enough to let him feel it," Trowa said blandly, then stuck a carrot in his mouth. The blase crunch-crunch was the only sound in the war room for a few moments.

"Shit, Heero, you ask the damndest questions sometimes," the not-princess said with a shake of his head.

"Hn." Heero privately wondered how to go about getting an erection so he could find out the status of his hungness so he could then plan the have sex mission accordingly. From the information he possessed, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to have sex with the not-princess if he were hung like a hamster. The not-princess appeared to bigoted as far as the size in which one was hung. Heero really, really wanted to have sex.

Quatre giggled and Wufei patted his pockets to confirm the presence of his toothpick.

"Anyway," Duo said, turning to Quatre again, "ol' Bionic J and G-man were sitting there, making goo-goo eyes at each other all the while J is lecturing Howie. Can you imagine anyone thinking you can actually lecture Howie and get through to him? J keeps it up and Howard's gonna pull his face out of Dorothy's cleavage and kick his ass. I get my kick assyness from Howie. Those two should just bone and get it over with."

Quatre frowned. "I thought King Howard and Dorothy were—"

Duo laughed. "I mean J and G."

Quatre looked instantly green and threw some falafel at Duo. "Eewww, that's an image I could have done without!"

Heero furrowed his brow. Bone. Clean his gun naked. His brow furrowed even more. "Baron J does not have a gun."

The baka blinked, a sort of herbivorous blankness washing over his face.

"You stated that bone means to clean your gun naked. Baron J does not have a gun. I did not verify if King's Advisor G possessed a gun or not. It was not necessary."

The not-princess sighed and slumped in his seat. "Jokes are so not funny if you have to explain them, Spandex Boy."

Speaking of explanations. "What is a blow job? You stated that nothing says I love you like a blow job."

"Yuy! That is _enough_ of this injustice!"

The baka grinned. "Injustice is Wuffie's code word for let's have some kinky-hot, man to man sex. He's obsessed."

"Maxwell!" Wufei roared, leaping after the baka. Duo did the herbivorous blankness for a heartbeat, then bolted from the room, screaming, with an irate Wufei chasing him.

"A blow job is oral sex, when someone, male or female, licks and sucks on a man's penis," Trowa stated. "Please pass the butter."

"The penis sucking activity is called a blow job?" This made absolutely no sense. "Why is it called a blow job if you are sucking, shouldn't it be called a suck job?"

Quatre grinned. "Maybe because getting one blows your mind."

Duo's shrieking abruptly cut off with a splash.

Quatre sighed, and headed for the front gate to let the baka in. Trowa shook his head. "You would think that after a year and a half he would learn not to bait Wufei."

Heero decided that he wanted a blow job. He wasn't sure if he would be able to coax the baka into obliging him, but he could do nothing but try. In order to accomplish his new mission, Mission Blow Job, he would have to secure the not-princess's cooperation. The not-princess had a preference in penis size, so he would have to verify that his penis fit within specs. In order to do that, he would have to get an erection. He had gotten them before, but never on command. "How would I get an erection?"

Wufei, who was in the midst of sitting down, yanked out his toothpick. Heero could hear him muttering, "Why do _I_ always have to be the virginal prude?"

Trowa paused in buttering his bread. "Excuse me?"

"How would I get an erection? I need to verify my hungness status."

Trowa very carefully put the butter knife down and steepled his fingers. "You could ask Duo to give you a blow job."

Heero shook his head. "The not-princess has specific size requirements. I am unable to verify that I meet these requirements."

"I, er, see," Trowa stated. "Have you tried masturbation?"

"Is it effective?"

Trowa smiled a small smile. "Extremely. I understand that Duo is an expert in the field. You should ask him for advice."

Heero nodded. "Zechs Marquise provided a twenty minute practical demonstration on masturbation."

Trowa's mouth dropped open.

Wufei's eyes bulged. "You got to watch _Zechs_ jack off and you don't know anything about sex?"

Heero shifted in his seat. "It was covert reconnaissance."

"You know Zechs?" Trowa asked.

Wufei abruptly blushed from head to toe. "I must worship Nataku."

"That means he's going to jack off!" Duo yelled after the rapidly disappearing Wufei.

"Duo, why do you _always_ smell like a wet dog whenever you get out of the moat?" Quatre whined, dropping into his chair.

"It's a stinky moat. Wuffie hasn't had the pool boy out since he caught us playing Prince and his Pool Boy under the drawbridge."

"Pool boy?" Heero was rather proud of his steady, calm tone.

"You're growling again, Heero," Duo sighed. "Felt like he had a nice cock and he was kinda ticklish. He was cute."

Heero's eyes narrowed. "Where can I find this pool boy?"

"He lives in—wait a minute. Why do you want to find the pool boy?"

"I wish to see him."

"Why?"

Nothing would make Heero admit that he planned to make sure that the pool boy was no longer cute. He glared at the not-princess. "I am interested in pools."

Duo grinned. "God, you're cute when you're insanely jealous."

"I am _not_ jealous, insanely or otherwise!" Heero put on his best promise of instant death glare. He dipped his voice into that low, harsh growl that made Baron J's men at arms pee their pants. "And I am _not_ cute!"

Quatre wisely stuffed some bread in his mouth to stifle his giggles.

Duo clapped his hands together and smiled at Heero. "Kawaii!"

Trowa picked up his bread and the butter knife. "You should give him a blow job, Duo."

Duo started choking. Heero turned the instant death glare on Trowa. Did he not realize that not all mission parameters had been properly researched? Mission Blow Job could not commence without proper data!

Trowa was apparently as immune to the death glares as Duo. The man's face didn't move a muscle, but Heero knew he was smirking.

Heero glowered. "I require more research."

Quatre cocked his head to the side. "Research? Maybe we can help!"

Heero stared at Quatre and recalled that the boy was familiar with units of measure necessary to properly size a penis. He could feasibly discover if his penis fit the not-princess's specifications without having to consult the not-princess.

Quatre squirmed in his chair and inched closer to Trowa. "Uh, maybe you should just ask Duo."

His baka sniffed and slouched in his chair. "Whattya need research for anyway? Blow jobs are easy to understand. Open mouth, insert boner."

"I must verify that my equipment is up to spec," Heero said without the long-suffering sigh that was creeping up from his toes.

The baka blinked at him. "Your equipment? Spec?"

Trowa outright smirked for a fifth of a second. "Say, Duo, what sort of equipment do you prefer anyway? Long and thick? Short and stubby? Hook to the left? Cut or uncut? Shaved?"

Duo grinned. "Not too long, not too short, and just big enough around."

Heero frowned; that was no help at all. "What size is not too long, not too short, and just big enough around in centimeters?"

"I'm not a size queen, if that's what you're asking," Duo sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his plate. He sounded almost hurt.

Heero decided that he did not need to know what a size queen was or why Duo thought Heero had applied that label to him. "No. I am asking what size of penis you prefer in centimeters. Your previous response was too vague to apply to mission parameters."

"Uh...." Duo's eyes dropped to the table in front of Heero.

"It is a simple matter for me to verify that my penis is within required specifications if I am aware of what those specifications are."

Duo licked his lips. "Well, I, uhm, don't know."

"Why not?"

The not-princess turned red for a moment, then narrowed his eyes and leaped to his feet, fists clenched in rage. "I don't have to answer to you!"

"He's never seen anyone's penis but his own before," Quatre said when the echoes from the yelling died down.

"Quatre!" Duo leaned over the table and smacked his friend on the side of his head.

"Well it's true."

"It is not!"

Quatre sniffed. "Porn doesn't count."

Duo dropped back into his chair and muttered.

"Why is it necessary to have seen one before? He seems knowledgeable enough to have developed preferences." Heero did _not_ like to be confused. He liked being confused only slight more than he like _Treize-baby_ and this pool boy individual.

"Well, it's sort of one of those things. You can't tell if a penis is going to be right for you until you've, er, held it." Quatre turned a delicate shade of pink.

Heero frowned, thinking about that. "Rather like a weapon."

"A weapon?"

"You can't really tell which you prefer until you shoot."

Duo blinked twice, in quick succession, then stuffed his braid in his mouth to muffle the belly laughs that were trying to work their way explosively through his nose. Trowa out right chuckled, his eye twinkling and his lips drawn into a grin that looked more at home on Duo's face. Quatre turned beet red. "Oh my."

"What?" This was getting to be very irritating.

Quatre's blush deepened. "Well, see, it's like this. Shoot is, um well—"

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeroooo!"

"What was _that_?" Trowa looked off toward the front of the castle, eye wide.

Heero and Duo stared at each other in shock.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

"Yuy? What is the meaning of this?" Wufei, yanking at his pants, stomped into the war room. "Is that howling creature calling your name an onna?"

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

All the blood drained from Heero's face.

Duo cringed. "Worse. It's Relena."


	12. Where the Hell Is My Self-Destruct Button?

Quatre sighed and vaguely wondered what he'd ever done to Duo or Heero to deserve _this_. "It will be better in the morning, Relena."

"Somehow, I don' tink so," she grumbled, blinking owlishly. "Iss like dis. I gots to follow 'Eero round ever'where. Ever'where man. I dint go into no men's room 'cause iss just gross, but I gots to follow him 'round goin' 'Eeeeero like I ain't gots no brain. You know what I'm shayin'?"

"I don't think you should have anymore of that."

"Nonshensh," Relena waved a hand airily and slugged back a shot of tea. Duo had made it. "Dish ish good tea. Besht tea I ever drunk. 'Cept the firsht cup."

"Tequila," Trowa said.

Quatre sighed.

"Anyway. I don't even like 'Eero, you know what I'm shayin'? He'sh rude." Relena giggled. "And did you shee my horsh? It's embarrashing. Embarrashing, I tell you! Ever'one likes to make fun o' me 'cause I got that pink horsh and the Barbie bedroom, but I dint pick 'em out. Sure, I like pink much as th' next princhesh, but not _that_ much. It'sh just not dig, dig, right. It'sh not me. I'm not like dat. At all. Why's ever'body think I'm like that? I'm jusht me."

"I know how you feel, Relena, but—"

"You don't!" She pounded her fists on the table. "Gawd that felt good. No wunner Duo does it. You don't know nuthin' 'bout me! Ever'body tinks dat I'm shome short of patho, patho uh shycho chick that has nuthin' better ta do than chase 'Eero round and round and round. You know how much it hurtsh to shcream 'Eeeeeeeeeeero! all th' time? I gots to buy stock in throat lozenges. Ya know?"

Quatre snorted. "Yeah, I know. Everybody thinks I'm an angel. I'm a terrorist. I kill people. I blow people up. But what do people do? They think I'm an angel! I've been thinking of getting a mohawk and dying it black. Maybe if I go goth, people'll figure out that I'm not some sweet, innocent _little one_ to stick up on the cherub pedestal. And what in the hell is it with all the giggling? I'm a teenaged male, I do _not_ giggle! You know how hard it is to get laid?"

Trowa abruptly grinned.

"Well, not that hard, but still! And what is with the mansions? I do not own an isolated yet wonderfully scenic mansion with a wonderfully convenient and fully stocked gundam hangar in every backwater berg on the planet and colonies."

Relena blinked. "Hey, we're havin' a drunken convershation about me." She pressed her cheek to the table. "I feel so used, you know? Like I only matter as shome kinda plot device, you know what I'm sayin'? Don't I get shome character devel'pment, too?"

"Yeah, I know. Like you're only there to make sure Duo and Heero get together."

"Egshactly! It'sh like my whole purpose in life is to make sure that there's a villain, ya know? I'm a pashifisht! I don't hate nobody. 'Specially not my own shishter." Relena snorted. "Shome shishter she is. I'm sho shleepy." A loud snore erupted and Relena's face screwed up into something not so pretty.

Quatre sighed again. "Should we leave her there?"

"She'll be okay." Trowa stood up. "C'mon _little one_ , let's go watch TV."

Quatre glared.

"Just kidding, my angel."

"You don't want to get any tonight, do you?"

Trowa didn't bother to look contrite, he just smirked and tugged Quatre into the den. "You know I adore you, my sweet little one."

" _In Napoli where love is king, when boy meets girl, er, boy here's what they say_."

Quatre jerked his arm free and threw himself on one end of the couch. Trowa curled up beside him and slipped his fingers through his hair.

Quatre wasn't in the mood to be appeased just yet. "You know I hate being called that stuff."

Trowa kissed his forehead. "I was just teasing you."

He sniffed and stared at Trowa's knees, so Trowa wouldn't figure out that he'd been forgiven just yet. He seriously liked it when Trowa went into let's-make-up-to-Quatre overdrive. _Seriously_ liked it. He stuck out his bottom lip and worked the pout, just to be sure, then blinked his big, wounded eyes up at Trowa.

" _When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore._ "

"You have the sexiest eyes, killer," Trowa murmured in a husky voice.

"Killer? _Killer_?"

"Studmuffin?"

"Trowa!"

"How about god of fuck?"

Quatre frowned. "I really like it when you call me Fuck Me Quatre. I like that nickname."

Trowa grinned, his lips actually quirking far enough to show a flash of even, white teeth. "You're my own little Fuck Me Quatre doll. You're what I've always wanted for Christmas but was too shy to ask Santa for."

Quatre went for stern and came up with a twist between disgruntled and amused. "You mean too naughty to ask Santa for."

" _When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine, that's amore_."

"I've been a bad boy," Trowa growled, then sucked one of Quatre's fingers into his mouth. Quatre tried to swallow the moan. He licked Quatre's palm. "I've been a very bad boy, Fuck Me Quatre."

"Uh," was the only intelligent thing Quatre could think to groan, at length, from the very base of his co—uh, say. Yeah. Say. Just like that. Oh yeah, just like that.

"I'm going to be a very, _very_ bad boy," Trowa added in that deep, sexy voice that set off every ductless gland Quatre owned and then those lips attached themselves to Quatre's.

Quatre loved the way Trowa kissed. Adored it. Put up with being called little one every once in a while just because of Trowa's kisses. Left behind the Winner Heirdom and mansions scattered just about everywhere just for Trowa's kisses. Well, it was better than admitting that he ran like hell because he had way too many sisters and oh my Trowa's kisses.

Trowa kissed with his entire body. Trowa's hair spilled along his cheek, shifting aside to tickle and tease Quatre's face. He could feel every ticklish end of those wonderful bangs tasting the flesh on his cheek, his jaw, and his throat.

" _Bells'll ring ting-a-ling-a-ling ting-a-ling-a-ling, and you'll sing Vita Bella._ "

His lips clung, they licked, they moved. Like now, Trowa's lips rubbed against his—

" _Hearts'll play tippi-tippi-tay tippi-tippi-tay, like a gay tarantella._ "

"Goddammit Duo!"

" _When the stars make you drool joost-a like pasta fazool, that's amore._ "

Trowa smiled gently, pulled the throw pillow from behind Quatre, and leaned over the back of the sofa.

" _When you dance down the street with_ —OW! Tro, knock it off! That _hurts_!"

Trowa whacked Duo a few more times with the pillow, he was nothing if not thorough, and Quatre smiled at him. "Go away, Duo."

Trowa gave Duo another whack before the annoying princess surged to his feet, fisted hands pressed into his sides. "Here I am, trying to be a nice guy and providing you with a little mood music to help out with the romance and this is the thanks I get?"

"You're singing about pizza and you sound like a dying cat," Quatre pointed out. "That's _not_ romantic."

"Pish."

"Did you just say _pish_?" Quatre reached for the throw pillow to get a few good whacks of his own in.

Duo sniffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you wanna be that way, fine. I know when I'm not wanted. Far be it from me to hang around, trying to help my friends out, when I'm getting nothing for my generosity but abuse. I'll just take myself off and sit on the battlements. _Alone_. Wondering what I did so wrong that my friends had to beat me and make fun of me when all I wanted was—"

"I'm going to strangle you," Trowa said in a tone usually found on the average bored telemarketer.

"Fine. I'll shut up. I'll close my mouth. I won't say another effin' word if that makes you happy." Duo stomped to an armchair and flopped into it, the skirt flying up in an unladylike fashion. He huffed and stared at them.

Trowa closed his eyes. Quatre blinked. "Duo, go away."

Duo sucked his lips into his mouth and shook his head.

"Duo."

Duo shook his head and yanked on his braid.

"I'm going to kill him," Trowa stated flatly and dumped Quatre on the couch. Duo's eyes widened, then he squealed and took off for the great hall when Trowa stood up. "Now where were we?"

.

_Thirty minutes later...._

.

"Barton, have you seen the baka?" Heero audibly paused. "Why are you naked?"

Quatre opened his eyes and groaned in frustration. How could Duo keep interrupting them without even being there? It was a plot, a wicked, despicable plot perpetrated by a sexually frustrated rat to make sure no one else got any, either.

Heero stepped up next to the couch, his impassive face swimming somewhere over Trowa's left shoulder. "Are you having sex?"

"Yes. Go away." Trowa was nothing if not succinct. Quatre frequently appreciated that quality.

"I have questions," Heero announced, his face shifting from barely-there confusion directly into mission mode. "What are the proper locales for sex? The instruction I have received indicated that sex was perpetrated in a bed. How does one go about initiating sex?"

Trowa's jaws flexed and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm going to—"

Quatre cut him off. Nothing like death threats to ruin an amorous mood. "Heero, go ask Wufei. Wufei is a scholar and he knows many things."

"Chang does not like discussing sex." Heero's face twisted into a distinctly put out expression. "He would not even tell me what the baka meant when he said that Barton was playing 'hide the salami' with you. Duo stated that it had to do with sexual activities, but not in what manner." The put out expression shifted to confusion. "What does salami have to do with sex?"

Trowa groaned and abruptly collapsed on top of Quatre. "I don't think I can get it back up now."

Quatre rubbed Trowa's back soothingly. "Me neither."

Heero glared impatiently. "Salami?"

Quatre briefly considered dishing out his own death threats. "Heero, go find Duo and stick your tongue in his mouth. He'll take it from there."

Heero looked briefly worried. "Will I need a salami?"

"No!" With an effort, Quatre moderated his tone. It certainly didn't help that Trowa was now snickering and that made his body vibrate in a most interesting fashion all along Quatre's. "No. Just go find Duo and kiss him."

"Ninmu ryoukai." Heero's dubious expression was no match for his mission-accepted face. "Have you seen him?"

"He left here about half an hour ago." Quatre suppressed a moan. Trowa, that evil sex-beast, was licking his neck.

Heero's mission face took a detour back into a light death glare. "Where was he going?"

"Mmm, I don't know. He ran out." Quatre tried not to pant like a teenaged boy in heat, nevermind that he was a teenaged boy in heat. Trowa's tongue was just as acrobatic as his body.

"If he returns, do not let him leave," Heero ordered, the mission face plastering itself back on.

.

_Twenty minutes later...._

.

Trowa eased another finger inside of Quatre, who gasped, arching his body onto those wonderful fingers. Trowa's tongue lolled slowly along the length of his left thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Those fingers spread, easing deeper in—

"Aaaaaaaaaahhh!"

Those fingers spread, easing dee—

"Chang!" Heero bellowed. "Where is my self-destruct button!?"

Those fingers spre–

"Heeeeeeeeero! Wait my love!"

Those fing—

"Omae o korosu!"

"It's an evil plot," Quatre growled.

Heero burst into the room, looking incredibly upset for a man with little facial expression. Trowa rolled to cuddle up against Quatre's side and pulled a blanket over them. Relena, her fingers pressed to her temples, staggered in after him.

"Winner, have you seen my self-destruct button?" Heero demanded.

Quatre blinked. Self-destruct button? "Why do you need it?"

Heero sent a fully loaded death-glare to Relena. "Relena has _arranged_ things."

Relena winced. "Must you shout? My head aches dreadfully."

Quatre was mystified. "Arranged things?"

She smiled through her bloodshot eyes. "It'll all work out perfectly. Even as we speak, Duo is on his way to Oz to marry Tray, er, Tree, um, Kash—"

"Treize Khushrenada," Heero snarled.

Relena beamed. The smile was at half-wattage and looked vaguely queasy, but it was a beaming smile nevertheless. Never let it be said that the Princess Relena couldn't rise to an occasion. "Yes, him. Thank you, darling. Duo will marry that person and I will marry Heero. Everyone will be blissfully happy!"

Quatre frowned. "Duo _wants_ to marry Treize Khushrenada?"

Heero flinched and covered the move with a shrug. "Have you seen my self-destruct button, Winner?"

Quatre ignored that. "I don't understand, _why_ would Duo want to marry Treize Khushrenada?"

"I'm never going to have sex," Heero muttered, flipping up the cushions on the chair he'd sat in when they watched those movies.

"Of course you'll have sex, my love," Relena soothed. "After we're married, of course."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Heero grimaced. His voice rose distinctly in pitch. "Dammit, where's that self-destruct button!?"

Quatre blinked at Heero, then shook his head. "Back to Duo. He was against marriage at breakfast. Why did he suddenly decide to change his mind?"

Heero's brow furrowed. Apparently that thought hadn't occurred to him.

"The important thing here is that everyone is going to be blissfully happy!" Relena smiled brightly.

Quatre lifted an eyebrow. "Duo didn't agree to this arrangement, did he?"

"You know Duo, she's always been silly about things. Sometimes it's up to those who love her to look after her best interests whether she likes it or not." Relena's smile brightened and she waved a hand dismissively.

Quatre relaxed a little. "Nothing to worry about then, Heero. Duo will be back soon. You know how much of an escape artist he is."

Heero relaxed as well.

Relena kept smiling.

"What did you do, Princess?" Trowa demanded coldly.

Relena's smile valiantly kept to her lips, even though she backed a few steps and put a chair between herself and Trowa. "N-nothing! Nothing that a concerned and loving girl wouldn't do for her precious, older sister."

Trowa shifted, sitting up and narrowing his eyes.

Her fingers trembled on the back of the chair and her smile gamely kept the corners of her mouth turned up.

Trowa leaned forward.

"They didn't hurt her! Honest! They promised to use just enough sedative to get her all the way to Oz! They only have to use a tranquilizer gun on her once! After that, they'll just use needles to keep her calm so she doesn't hurt herself before her wedding! Honest! Heero! Save me!"

"Omae o korosu!" Heero bellowed.

"Oh, Heero! I love you, too!"

Quatre grabbed Trowa by the shoulders to keep him from leaping at the Princess. It wasn't that he was particularly worried about Trowa killing the girl; it was that he didn't want anyone else to see Trowa naked. So he was a bit possessive. He didn't think of it as a bad thing. "Heero, you don't have time for that. You have to go and rescue Duo from Oz. Go get Wufei so we can begin mission planning immediately. We'll meet in the great hall. Trowa, we'll need maps and any intelligence on Oz we have—"

"I'll bring my laptop," Heero stated.

Quatre nodded. "Good."

"Do you think that Duo will let me rescue him this time?" Heero actually looked a little worried.

Quatre smiled. "Of course, Heero." He made a mental note to bring a tranquilizer gun along on the rescue.

.

_Just outside the castle at Oh-Dark-Thirty...._

.

"I still do not see why we must rescue Maxwell. He is perfectly capable of returning on his own." Wufei settled his hands more firmly around the coffee thermos in his lap.

"Not so loud, Wufei," Quatre hissed. "You don't want to wake _her_ up."

Heero glared at Wufei, promising instant retribution if he woke _her_ up.

"I do not see why we must bring that _beast_ along with us." Wufei tossed a malignant look at the black horse that Trowa was ponying. Deathscythe had developed an unhealthy fixation with Shenlong's rump. Wufei had no wish to encourage such perverted behavior.

"Duo misses him," Heero stated flatly.

Wufei snorted in disgust. "This is pointless!"

Quatre ground his teeth in frustration. "If you don't want to help, you can stay home!"

Wufei's horrified gasp said it all, but that never stopped him. "Absolutely not! I will _not_ remain with that, that, _onna_ of Yuy's—"

Heero bristled. "She's not mine!"

"—while the rest of you ride to battle! A member of the Dragon Clan does not hide at home behind some woman's skirts when a comrade is in peril."

Trowa rolled his eye. "You just didn't want to be left alone with the Princess."

Wufei glared.

.

_Deep within the depths of the Oz...._

.

Duo Maxwell groaned and licked his lips. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of Heero's spandex fresh from the moat and his head was throbbing. Worse, his left arm felt like someone had been using it for a pincushion.

"You're finally awake, Princess."

He knew that voice. It was low pitched and ran over his nerves like silk. He blinked against the lights and turned to look at his companion. He blinked again, confused. "T.K.?"

Treize smiled. "Welcome to Oz, my dear."

"Oz? What the fuck?" He forced himself to sit up, even though the roiling in his belly told him it was a mistake.

"We will be married in the morning, on Earth Sphere television."

Duo glared. "I won't marry you."

The elegant smile hardened. "I don't believe it will be at all difficult to persuade you, Princess. You _will_ marry me."

"No!"

The smile slipped. Treize pushed a button on the telephone. "Lady Une, please see that the princess is escorted to the cell block for her attitude adjustment."

A female voice purred, "Yes, Treize-sama."

.

_Fifteen minutes later...._

.

Duo shrieked in rage at his captors, jerking against the restraints. "You can't do this to me! I'm an American!"

Two of the big, burly Oz officers exchanged confused glances. "I thought you were a Sweeper?"

Duo snorted. "You shouldn't think. You'll overheat your brain cell and then where will you be?"

One of them glared and checked the leather binding one of Duo's wrists to the table. "Don't get smart with me, missy."

Three more big, burly Oz officers filed in. "Samson's on his way," one of them grunted. The three that were already present grinned at each other.

"Samson? Your pet poodle?" Duo tested the give on the leather around his ankles.

Single Brain Cell smirked. "Oh no, Samson is our Token Straight Guy. You're going to _love_ him, _Princess_."

Duo frowned. "Token _straight_ guy?"

Grunting Boy nodded. "Yeah. It's against the law to discriminate against people for their sexual orientation so we keep at least one straight guy on staff. It's caused a lot of problems because he can't join the Union so he doesn't have to pay dues, but he gets all of the benefits. We're in negotiations for a Token Straight Guy clause in the Union charter."

Another big, burly Oz officer leered at Duo. "Too bad you're not a boy. I'd take a piece of your ass if you were."

Duo didn't think he would enlighten them. "You have a Union?"

Grunting Boy nodded and produced his card. "Sadistic Homosexual Interrogators and Torturers local 869. I'm in charge of recruiting. We supply all of the prison staff for Oz. Except for the Token Straight Guy."

Duo blinked in disbelief.

Grunting Boy grunted. "I see you doubt, gundam scum! We may be homosexual, but we are still sadistic. We provide excellent service. Don't let the gay stereotype fool you. We torture better than anyone."

"But I didn't—"

"Silence!" Single Brain Cell roared. "We will prove it, bitch, I hope you're into pain."

"A one," Grunting Boy grinned evilly, snapping his fingers, "a one, two, three, four. We're men. We're men in tights. We roam around Oz bases looking for fights!"

Leering Dork picked up the harmony. "We're men. We're men in tights! We work for the rich to beat up the poor, that's right!"

The six big, burly Oz officers shuffled into a line using a light jig. They followed this up with a graceful Irish reel, the hard tapping of their feet keeping perfect time.

"We may look like sissies, but watch what you say or else we'll put out your lights!"

The door flew open and a seventh man leaped in, his body arching gracefully. The original six la-la'd and reeled while the newly arrived Lord of the Dance proved beyond a doubt that white men _can_ jump. Well, as long as they're wearing Riverdance make-up.

"We're men! We're men in tights, tights, tights! We're always on guard, defending the people's rights!"

The six began an energetic slip jig.

"When you're in a fix, just call for the men in tights!" All seven of them flexed into a Mr. Olympia posedown. "We're butch!"

Even if he'd been able to, Duo wouldn't have clapped. "I've died and gone to hell."

.

_The next evening...._

.

"I thought it would take longer to get here," Quatre muttered.

Trowa shrugged. "A more realistic length of time would be boring, apparently."

Wufei snorted. "Enough chatter."

Heero squinted his eyes at the tall, imposing castle nestled in the side of a mountain. It was a typical Oz base. There was a perimeter fence made of barbed moat. Barbed moat? Heero shook his head. There were patrolling guards, machine gun turrets, large fuel and ammo stores situated where they could do a great deal of damage if an enterprising terrorist were to set a few charges. There were four gates, one of which was watched by two guards who had more interest in playing poker than watching the area. The other three gates were patrolled by more dedicated personnel. There were several escape sorts of vehicles, including a sports car, a kick-ass jeep, and enough sleek motorcycles to transport all five of them. For some reason, they were scattered about the compound in places where there were not only lots of shadows around them, but near openings to ventilation shafts. Beyond the open doors of the motor pool, several hulking trucks were parked, one of which was idling by itself for no readily apparent reason. There was one guy in the motor pool, but he was lying on a creeper, sound asleep and drooling.

Quatre peered at the castle through a set of binoculars. "Heero, Wufei, you'll go in and get Duo. Trowa will sit back with Heavyarms and provide support. I'll be here with Sandrock to provide support for Trowa when he runs out of ammo, even though I'm supposed to be monitoring communications back at the safe house. Questions?"

Wufei snorted in contempt and fingered the hilt of his sword. Heero unsquinted his eyes. "Ninmu ryoukai."

"Let's do this," Quatre said, his expression hardening into something he felt would be more appropriate for a battle-scarred tactician.

Wufei and Heero slipped through woods conveniently butting up against the barbed moat near the poker playing guards. They paused, backs to a wall. Heero flicked his fingers, indicating that Wufei should go right and he would go left. Wufei shook his head and flicked his own fingers, indicating that he would go kill the guards first, then he would check out the motorcycles to see if they had sufficient fuel, then he would go left. Heero was to check out the sports car and plant a few charges first. Heero glared at Wufei, his fingers flying as if he were on his laptop. He was going to hack the necessary data first, then he would—

One of the poker playing guards looked up, spotted the Last of the Dragon Clan preparing to make his objections to Heero's plan known with a solid looking fist, and screamed like a girl. Heero whirled toward the sound, drawing his right hand .50 AE. The other poker playing guard looked up, blinked, then clutched at his chest and fell backwards, across the panic button. The squealing guard clutched at his own chest, gasping in obvious agony, then slowly dropped to the floor. Heero blinked and shared a confused look with Wufei before holstering his unfired weapon.

"You! Freeze!

Heero took off running toward the right, Wufei raced off toward the left, and they easily left behind the random, lucky patrol that had run across them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The direct quotation and minor paraphrasing when Duo is serenaded is from the Mel Brooks movie "Robin Hood: Men in Tights". The narrative prose is mine, the serenade is not. This situation is intended as a Gundam Wing parody.


	13. Quit Shrieking, You Sound Like Relena

"She has a penis! I touched a penis!" The haunting cry of a homophobic male in full flight echoed through the corridors of the dungeon. "Bleach! I need bleach! Aaah!"

Duo thought that this was kind of ridiculous considering the man was wearing full Riverdance make-up and had been athletically bouncing around as if he were the bastard child of Michael Flatley and Mikhail Barishnikov singing about being a man in tights not thirty minutes ago. Seriously, a man _has_ to be secure in his masculinity to do _that_.

Single Brain Cell and his pals rushed into the room and stood around the table by his feet. The skirt of his dress was lifted and the Lord of the Dance pointed. " _See_?!"

Someone prodded at his dick. "It's real!"

"The Princess is a boy!"

Duo rolled his eyes. "Someone send a press release to the Horde."

The six members of SHIT local 869 huddled and whispered while Samson, the Token Straight Guy glared at Duo. "You're some kind of sick freak, kid." He wrinkled his nose. "What kind of a boy runs around in a dress pretending to be a princess? That's sick! You're a pervert!"

"You were just about to rape me and you're calling _me_ a pervert? You so don't have room to cast aspersions on anyone else's sexuality." Duo shook his head. "You've obviously never met any fangirls."

"Fangirls?" Samson scratched his jaw.

The huddle broke before Duo could explain about such things as shounen ai and yaoi. "Samson! Get on the horn to Colonel Une and give her a sit-rep. We're going to put the princess in lock up until further instructions," Grunting Boy said.

Single Brain Cell leered at Duo. "Your ass is gonna be mine, pretty boy."

Samson glowered at Grunting Boy. "Do your own grunt work, Johnson. I'm an officer."

Johnson rolled his eyes. "We're _all_ officers. Everyone who works in the prison system is an officer. I haven't seen an enlisted soldier anywhere near a cell block in the fifteen years I've been with Oz. The Colonel likes you, so you're nominated."

"She doesn't like me! She just appreciates the fact that some guys around here look at _her_ ass instead of the General's!"

"So! Ogle her boobs on the vidphone if it makes you happy!" Johnson yelled. "Just do it!"

Grumbling, Samson slunk through the door. "You just wanna feel the little sick-o up."

The big, burly Oz officers unbuckled the leather straps and yanked Duo from the table by his armpits. "Hey! Watch it, twinkletoes. Hands off the merchandise!"

"Shut up, gundam scum!" Single Brain Cell barked.

Johnson, who held him up on the other side, sneered. "We need to find him a better outfit. The dress just doesn't do it for me. He looks like a girl."

Single Brain Cell shrugged as they hauled Duo through the door. "Some of us like to pretend we're into boys that look like girls so we can pretend we're actually straight so it doesn't look like every Oz officer blows the homosexual rapist curve."

Johnson snorted. "Frank, check wardrobe and see if we have anything more masculine for the boy. Something tight on the ass."

One of the six grunted and headed off.

"Here we go, gundam scum!" Single Brain Cell yelled. "Your new home."

A third big, burly Oz officer opened a thick, metal door and the two shoved Duo inside. They paused to leer at him before slamming the door shut and locking it.

"Well, fuck," Duo snapped.

"Duo?"

Duo spun around. "Heero!"

"I'm here to rescue you," Heero said firmly.

Duo almost choked on his laughter. Heero was sitting, his hands hanging over his head from the manacles that kept him chained to the wall. "And you're doing such a bang up job of it, too."

"You are laughing at me."

"Well, duh!"

The door exploded open and Leering Dork bounced in, carrying a stack of magazines. "I knew it!"

Duo put himself between the big, burly Oz officer and Heero. "Uh, knew what?"

Heero kicked Duo in the back of the leg. "Get out of the way, baka, I'm supposed to protect you."

"Right, Heero. You go ahead and do that chained to the wall."

Leering Dork dropped the magazines on the cot and whipped out a felt pen. "You're Duo Maxwell!"

Duo decided to neither confirm nor deny. "And you have a point?"

Leering Dork grinned in childish delight. It looked rather disconcerting in his big, burly, sadistic Oz officer face. "Can I have your autograph? I've got all your issues, though The Brave Gundam Pilot Takes It to Save His Friends is my favorite! Oh, I've got Mario's L2 Prostitute issue, so if you could autograph it for him, that'd be great!"

" _What_?!"

"You're the most popular centerfold in SHIT's monthly magazine! I have to admit, the Delicate Virgin was _very_ hot." Leering Dork flipped open the top magazine and sure enough, there was Duo, chained, spread-eagled to the floor and staring at the camera with big, terrified eyes that were begging to be rescued. His outfit was a borrowed Oz uniform and had been ripped in strategic places to show an innocently enticing amount of flesh. The pictorial was entitled Shy, Virginal Gundam Pilot Gets Broken In. Next to a picture, where his averted face showed tears dripping toward the floor and he was hunched over to cover his shirtless chest as much as possible despite the chains, were his vital statistics, including the size of his genitalia and a blurb about how this sweet, little Gundam pilot enjoys dancing to J-pop with his friends, ice cream cones on the beach, and flying kites in the park. Leering Dork glared. "I get it for the articles!"

Duo was too busy cringing at a picture of himself, bound with rope, crying. He was a boy and boys don't cry!

Giggling, Leering Dork flipped open another issue to show a snarling Duo bent over a chair and tied to it. This pictorial was entitled The God of Death Goes Down Hard. "Johnson loves this one. He's getting his own mags for you to sign. You are _so_ hot, Mr. Maxwell! I love your work!"

Duo peered intently at the snarling Duo. The thing looked real. "What the fuck?"

"Frank really liked you in the crossdressing issue. We tried to get him into the Token Straight Guy job because he likes his boys in dresses, but he likes giving blow jobs too much. Frank can't wait to pound your ass in that dress. You'll probably like Frank because he's the only one of us who isn't allergic to lube." Leering Dork handed the felt pen to Duo. "Can you sign these to George, with love, Your Hot Gundam Pilot, Duo? Oh my god, Eric over at the Beijing Base is going to be _sooooo_ jealous!"

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"I just wish I wasn't allergic to lube. It's not that I care about your comfort, after all, blood and shrieks of agony are _such_ a turn on, but dry fucking is hard on your penis, you know?" Leering Dork giggled again. "Every member of SHIT absolutely _dreams_ of the day when you'll get captured and incarcerated on our base! We've even got prisoner transfers all mapped out so we can pass you around with the most efficiency! There's even plans to trade you for any of the other Gundam Pilots we might catch because you are _the_ hottest pilot around. Well, except for 01 there. He has a few fans, including Colonel Marquise. The Colonel would _kill_ us if we traded him for you. Luckily, we've got you both!"

" _Zechs_?" Duo's jaw dropped. "But Zechs is second in command at Peacemillion!"

Leering Dork shrugged. "Word is that Lady Une is out to get him, so he moonlights with the Sweepers. I'll just leave these with you while I go find out when I get to rape you." The big, burly Oz officer giggled on his way out.

Heero ripped the manacles out of the wall and wandered over to flip through The God of Death Goes Down Hard. "Interesting."

"Forget it, Yuy," Duo growled. "Can you _believe_ this shit? I never posed for this stuff!"

"Looks realistic."

Duo snorted in disgust and went to a corner to sulk.

.

_Twenty minutes later...._

.

Wufei strode between the two big, burly Oz officers as if he owned the place. They'd captured him by sheer luck near the motorcycles. His wallet and his katana were now in the custody of the prison warden and he was being led into the bowels of the castle to whatever fate the treacherous and dishonorable Oz curs had in store for him. It did not matter. He was Chang Wufei and they would not break him.

This injustice was all Maxwell's fault, anyway.

The two big, burly Oz officers stopped and unlocked a door. One of them leered and goosed his butt before he was tossed into a cell. Dishonorable lechers!

"Wuffie!"

Wufei gaped in horror. "Maxwell!"

The braided baka grinned. "In the flesh! It's great to see you, did you come to fuck up in rescuing me, too?"

Wufei blinked. " _Yuy_? You were captured as well?"

Yuy momentarily paused in his quiet perusal of a magazine to glare. Maxwell scribbled something in another magazine and grunted to himself in satisfaction.

"Why are you doing that, baka?" Yuy demanded, sounding annoyed.

"Gotta keep my fans happy!" the baka chirped.

"'George, hope you enjoyed the ass kicking I gave you as much as I did, love, the God of Death.'" Yuy tossed the magazine he'd been reading at the baka and snorted in disdain. The baka chortled.

"What in the name of justice are you talking about, Yuy?" Wufei snapped. He stalked to the cot they were sitting on and snatched the magazine from Duo's face. Then he dropped it as if it were molten lava. A mostly naked Maxwell, chained to a rough mattress, was grinning lasciviously at the camera through half-lidded, sloe eyes. The caption read "The L2 Whore Takes on the Cell Block".

The in the flesh Maxwell grinned all the more. "Like it, Wuffie?"

"Injustice!" Wufei shrieked. He was unable to summon a nosebleed as the big, burly Oz officer that had pinched his rump had relieved him of his toothpick earlier. "I will not tolerate this, this filth!"

"You'll love it here! This place is fucked up, Wuffers. You'n the Lord of the Dance are the only straight guys. Though, you are so in the closet." Maxwell's grin turned maniacal. "I can help you with that."

Wufei backed away slowly, so as not to alarm Maxwell into pouncing. Yuy grabbed the trailing end of Maxwell's braid and yanked him to a halt. Maxwell pouted, then dropped back onto the cot next to Yuy. Wufei let loose a cautious breath and settled himself into a corner to wait for the big, burly Oz officers' dishonorable next move.

Eyeing the other two suspiciously when Maxwell began to earnestly whisper to his partner, Wufei wondered what Maxwell was up to and if Yuy would be able to restrain him. Yuy violently shook his head and settled his death glare on the wall opposite the cot. Maxwell snorted and poked Yuy in the ribs, then redoubled his whisper campaign. Yuy's eyes latched on to Wufei's face and his expression was, ancestors, Yuy was looking nervous and—dare he say it—vulnerable. Wufei blinked, wide-eyed, at this uncharacteristic display of emotion on Yuy's normally stoic, handsome, coldly angelic face. After a moment, Maxwell gave Yuy a tender, yet passionate kiss, then nodded, his bangs flying attractively. He leaned against Yuy and stared at Wufei.

Wufei swallowed the lump in his throat and told himself that he was neither nervous nor concerned by this behavior.

Maxwell offered him a tentative smile, not the usual grin, but a soft smile. "Wufei?"

Wufei glared dangerously. "Maxwell."

Maxwell's incredible eyes flicked nervously from his hands to Wufei's face. His fingers alternately picked at the tuft of his braid and strangled it. "I didn't want to say anything, because, you know, I was afraid. I was afraid of how you would, you know, react. I really value your friendship and I don't want you to hate me because, um, because of what I've always wanted to tell you, but couldn't. But now, well, we're here. And we're going to be executed, maybe tomorrow, after we're tortured for information and probably raped, too."

Yuy grunted and clutched at Maxwell's hand in a reassuring manner. Wufei blinked.

Maxwell gave Yuy a shaky little smile, then turned an earnest face back to Wufei. Those beautiful amethyst eyes gleamed in the dim prison light with unshed tears. "I just wanted to tell you, before it was too late, Wufei. I love you. Me and Heero both do."

Yuy tossed Maxwell an unreadable look, then gave Wufei a slight nod.

"We both loved you first, you know? You're so sexy and wonderful and honorable and hot and we just couldn't help but fall in love with you." Maxwell sighed and blushed a little. "We couldn't tell you because we were afraid you'd hate us. How could you love us? I'm a nothing L2 street rat and Heero is a killer and you're this wonderful, shining beacon of justice from a great family. So we turned to each other."

Yuy tried the slight nod out on Wufei again.

Maxwell's eyes pleaded with Wufei. "We talked about it and now that it's too late and we're all gonna be executed at Oz's hands, we decided to stop being afraid of our feelings and talk to you. We want to try. We love each other, but we love you, too."

Undoubtedly feeling more practiced at it, Yuy added his opinion on the matter with another slight nod for Wufei.

Wufei found himself rendered mute and gaping. Maxwell, the exuberant, full of life spirit was in love with _him_? Anyone would be envious of being the object of the braided beauty's affection. And Yuy? The coldly beautiful warrior who was the essence of perfection? _Yuy_ loved him?

Maxwell offered Wufei a soft, welcoming smile. He patted the cot beside him, next to Yuy's leg. "Come, Wufei, come let us love you."

Wufei's jaw clamped shut. He read the sultry invitation in Maxwell's face and found it echoed in Yuy's. Well, as sultry-ily as a block of beautifully crafted warrior marble could invite.

Maxwell nudged Yuy in the ribs with his elbow. Yuy patted the cot as well, rattling the chains that still held his wrists handcuffed together. "Wufei."

There was only one thing a warrior could do when faced with two gorgeous men offering their love and devotion. He ran. Screaming.

A lovelorn voice chased him down the hall, gloating. "See, Heero! I _told_ you!"

Panting more with terror than exertion, Wufei bolted past a couple of startled guards and fled up a set of stairs. He charged through the great hall and up another flight of stairs. He wasn't terribly sure where he was going and, at the moment, didn't care. Maxwell and Yuy wanted to.... Well, it was not to be borne! Maxwell, he could understand. Maxwell had been trying to worm his way into Wufei's bed for a year and half now. But _Yuy_? He couldn't understand it. What possessed _Yuy_ to join in Maxwell's madness?

Wufei skidded around a corner and slipped through a pair of heavy double doors. Sucking in air, he forced himself to calm a little. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with love. There had been Meilan when he was a child. He had love her. He had hated her. He had been, on the whole, rather indecisive about the whole thing. He carried on his slavish devotion to justice in her memory. Sometimes his slavish devotion was based on the tortuous guilt he felt because he hadn't been able to save her despite the tender love and unshakeable respect he felt for her brilliance of spirit and her stout heart. Sometimes his slavish devotion was based on a tortuous guilt that he hadn't saved her because he couldn't stand to be near her; she was disrespectful, embittered, angry, and female. Sometimes his slavish devotion wasn't based on anything. He was just used to it.

"Chang Wufei," a silken voice purred. "At last we meet."

Wufei whirled. "Treize Khushrenada!"

.

_Back in the dungeon...._

.

"Hn." Heero grabbed the baka by his trailing braid and yanked him to a halt.

"I _told_ you!" the baka crowed. Again. "You give ol' Wuffie a goose on his homophobia and he can knock down doors, leap a building in a single bound, and outrun a choo choo train." The baka frowned. "I forgot how that goes. Lessee, able to leap tall buildings, check. Faster than a, uh, dammit faster th–aaaah! Watch the hair, goddammit!"

Heero ignored the yelping and concentrated on rescuing his not-princess by dragging him through the Wufei-shaped hole in the wall next to the door by his braid. Silently, he ran through the mission specs in his head with a slight frown. Something wasn't quite right.

"Heeeero! Goddammit, that _hurts_! Leggo my hair!"

"Shut up, baka. I'm rescuing you."

Duo dug his feet in. "I don't want to be rescued! I can do it myself! I'm not some stupid helpless damsel in distress, goddammit, and your fucking True Love isn't gonna fucking make it all goddamned better."

Heero frowned. "Quatre said that you would let me rescue you."

Duo snorted. "Quatre doesn't know jack shit."

Heero sighed. "Will you please let me rescue you?"

Duo glared. "You don't have to sound like you're chewing glass when you ask, you know."

Heero forced a smile onto his face. From Duo's shudder, he understood that it looked more rabid than pleasant, but he was unused to both smiling and pleasant, so rabid would have to do whether the baka liked it or not. "Please let me rescue you, Duo?"

"Fine," Duo snapped with a huff. He crossed his arms over his chest and squinted. "Well, hop to. Get to rescuing me and all that. I'm hungry."

"I need to take care of these cuffs first."

Duo rolled his eyes. "I'll just get out my lockpicks and have them o—"

"No." Heero glared. "It's my mission."

"How do you plan on getting the cuffs off?"

Heero doubled the wattage on his glare. He hated it when Duo used that patient, explaining-to-a-two-year-old tone. His glare melted into an evil grin when two of the big, burly Oz officers came out of an office, chatting pleasantly about the merits of the tensile strength of titanium versus the chafing issues it caused on the delicate skin of the wrist. They froze when they spotted the two escaped prisoners, then leaped forward, bellowing commands.

"Perfect," Heero said, suddenly very pleased. "Let one of them molest you."

Duo blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Let one of them molest you," Heero ordered.

"I thought you were rescuing me! You even asked! What the fuck?"

"Quit shrieking, you sound like Relena."

The two big, burly Oz officers surrounded them, one grabbing Duo by butt and braid, the other latching onto Heero's arm.

"Hey!" Duo squawked. "Hands off the ass, dickhead! I'm not that kind of fucking princess!"

Heero tried to get mad, but Duo had been more indignant than hurt. Heero smacked Duo in the head. "Baka! I can't rescue you if you don't need to be rescued."

Duo glared, elbowing the octopus behind him in the ribs. "The Horde is no where near here. You'll have to fake it."

Heero called the run-of-the-mill glare and raised him a death glare. "It's _my_ mission, baka. I will run it efficiently as I have been trained to."

"Getting captured _again_ is not my idea of an efficiently run mission!"

Heero snorted. "I have done the research, baka. You are not in sufficient danger. You cannot be rescued until you are. No one has actually attempted to rape you, yet."

Duo's jaw dropped. "Are you _insane_?"

"Negative. I was declared mentally fit at my last psych evaluation."

"It doesn't count if you were pointing your guns at the docs!" Duo bellowed. He whipped around and decked the big, burly Oz officer, knocking him out cold. "Keep your goddamned hands to yourself!"

Heero glared at the floor and mumbled.

Duo paused in the delivery of several sharp kicks to the prone officer's backside. "What was that?"

Heero noted with satisfaction that it was unlikely that the prone officer would have a cute butt when his Duo was finished administering his tantrum to the officer's buttocks. "It was only one gun and I didn't have a round chambered. The man had no cause for alarm. It is not my fault if Baron J is unable to hire properly trained medical personnel."

"Oh, yeah, _that_ makes it _all_ better," Duo grumbled. The baka gave the officer a particularly vicious kick. "Did it occur to you, Mr. Perfect Spandex Butt, that if you don't rescue me _before_ I get raped then someone else will have had the pleasure of fucking me?"

Heero's glare blistered the stone wall behind Duo. "All of the research that I have conducted clearly indicates that I will rescue you immediately prior to penetration."

The big, burly Oz officer that held Heero tried to inject himself between the two. "Hey, remember me? Big guy with a gun who captured you?"

Heero popped him in the jaw and he dropped like a rock. Just to be thorough, Heero liberally applied his steel toed sneakers to the man's butt. He grunted in satisfaction after a few well-placed kicks. There was no way that the not-princess could find that butt cute now.

"Research? _Research_?" Duo was shrieking like Relena again. Heero considered popping him in the jaw as well, but didn't think his baka would be as amenable to having sex if he did that. Additionally, pain in the mandible might make kissing unenjoyable for his baka and he did not want to chance such an event. "Where in the fuck do you research rescuing me from rape?"

"The ladies-in-waiting that surround the Princess Relena provided me with several Internet sites that contained thousands of mission plans in the event that I would be required to rescue you from an Oz prison." Heero glowered at Duo. "You are not cooperating with outlined mission parameters. Your duty is to be at the mercy of these prison officers. You are permitted to cry and call for me. You may also curse, taunt, and otherwise aggravate prison officers. You are not to rescue yourself, me, or otherwise assist in your escape. It would make it difficult for me to carry you from the prison if you have already rescued yourself."

His not-princess's jaw dropped open. Heero was not so stupid as to believe that silence meant acquiescence, no matter how much he wished it. He glared again, so that his baka would understand that important information was to be imparted and he should follow instructions to the letter. "These simulated missions frequently required you to be naked and raped by prison officials." Heero deepened the glare for good measure. "I took the liberty of writing these parameters out of the mission. You will only be naked for me and you will only have sex with me. Is that understood?"

The not-princess stared, glassy-eyed, at him. The officer at his feet moaned in pain and Heero kicked him again to shut him up. The echo of several feet racing in their direction pounded through the stone corridor. "You will not take your clothes off," Heero ordered.

They were suddenly surrounded by big, burly Oz officers who intently began carting them to a cell next to the one with the Wufei-shaped hole in the wall. Heero noted that two of these officers sported tight rear ends that might be considered cute.

"Heero?" The baka said faintly. "Where did you say you found these, uh, simulated missions?"

The door to the cell slammed shut. "At several websites provided by Relena's ladies-in-waiting."

"I, uh, see. Did these happen to be the Horde ladies-in-waiting, by any chance?"

Heero nodded curtly. "The same."

"Your rescue-me-from-rape mission comes from _fangirls_?"

"Affirmative." Heero was too busy plotting how to make the butts on those two Oz officers uncute to pay any attention to his baka's indignant shrieking.

.

_Back in Treize Khushrenada's suite...._

.

"Khushrenada," Wufei spat. "You dishonorable cur! I have sworn to kill you for what you have done to my clan!"

"I am truly sorry for the loss of a people that have spawned such a magnificent creature," Khushrenada said. "However, I am not in the mood to be killed this evening. You'll have to wait until it suits my purposes."

"I challenge you to a duel, Khushrenada!"

Treize smiled, obviously amused, and trailed his eyes from the tip of Wufei's boots to the top of his head. "With what? You appear to be lacking in weaponry. Unless, of course, you plan on using the sword you were born with?"

Wufei frowned. The sword he was— "The sword I was born with?"

Treize sighed. "I like to preface my duels with witty sexual innuendo."

Wufei glared. "I am of the Dragon Clan, we are adaptable in combat."

"Little dragon, this is where you tell me about where you intend to sheathe your sword." Treize chuckled. "You are delightful! So full of fire and naivete."

"Kisama! You're worse than Maxwell! Is this continent populated with nothing but perverts?!" Wufei reflexively clutched at the pocket where he kept his toothpick.

Treize's smile turned gentle. "Ah, my sweet little dragon, you didn't know? We are bishounen. That means we're perverts."

"I am not little!" Wufei roared.

"Well, you do know what they say about Asian men," Treize purred.

"Kisama!" Wufei leaped for the sideboard piled with the remnants of Treize's dinner. There were no knives handy. There wasn't even a toothpick. There were a few pieces of chicken in a red, paper bucket and several pieces of plastic dinnerware lying on plain, paper napkins. Casting about the room in disgust for a final time and cursing the warden to the Hell of Burning Jock Itch for taking his sword, Wufei snatched up a piece of plasticware and whirled on Treize. "Face the wrath of the Last of the Dragon Clan, tyrant!"

Treize lifted an eyebrow and smothered a smirk. "Will you permit me to similarly arm myself, darling dragon?"

Glowering in a way that Wufei considered to be dangerous and Treize considered to be adorable, Wufei stepped aside and gestured to the sideboard magnanimously. Treize picked through the available dinnerware and chose his weapon with care. Wufei heaved a disgusted sigh. "Can we please get _on_ with it?"

Treize took a few practice swings with his weapon of choice and decided that he was as pleased with it as he was going to get under the circumstances. He smiled at Wufei. "I believe I shall name my weapon Exsporkibur."

"Utter nonsense!" Wufei declared.

"I believe, precious dragon, that it was you who chose the dueling weapon. I have named my personal sword Rosarian and the matching sheath is called Rosebud. Clever, no?"

Wufei let his weapon hang loosely at his side and glared at Treize suspiciously. "What injustice are you babbling about?"

Treize just laughed. "En garde, my beautiful dragon!"

At last. Wufei brought his weapon to point in line. "You will taste the fury of the Dragon Clan on the blade of my Mighty Spork of Justice!" He lunged, the tines held forward in a perfect attack.

Around his nearly incessant and quite annoying chortles, Treize parried the opening sally and immediately followed through with a riposte. After a flurry of attack and counter-attack, Wufei found himself on his knees, the tines of Exsporkibur digging into the soft flesh of his throat, beneath his upraised chin.

"You have won," Wufei hissed. "What are you waiting for? Kill me!"

"Kill you? What ever for?"

"You defeated me! It is your right as the victor to claim my life! Kisama, do you know nothing of justice?"

Treize smiled and pulled the spork from Wufei's neck. "Of course, dragon. I defeated you and now I will claim my prize."

Wufei shut his eyes and lifted his chin higher. He was of the Dragon Clan and he would die with honor, though, he did have to wonder how painful his death would be at the hands of a flimsy spork. Perhaps the tyrant would be decent enough to fetch a real sword.

"Such beauty. Such fire," Treize murmured.

Expecting to have his jugular hacked at with a piece of cheap plastic, Wufei was quite shocked to find himself kissed instead.


	14. Goddamned Homo Perverts

Heero scratched his head, concerned. His baka hadn't said a word in five minutes. He checked his internal clock again. Yes, five minutes. It was set to the mercury ion clock in Boulder, Colorado so his estimate was accurate in one part in ten to the eighteenth power. Heero peeked at his baka. Duo was glaring at him, arms crossed and tight-lipped. He might not be well versed in emotion, but even Heero could tell that the not-princess was mildly irritated. He thought of speaking, but he wasn't sure if his not-princess's mild irritation would be an obstacle if he requested a kiss. He met those intense, purple eyes for half of a heartbeat and wondered if he could duplicate the expression. It would certainly terrify any enemies he happened to meet on the battlefield. It might even deter the Princess Relena. 

Closing his eyes, Heero mentally began dividing 1 by 100,0000,0000,0000,0000 to see how accurate his internal clock actually was. Ichi waru hyakkei. Duo would say one divided by one quintillion. Heero hazarded a look at his baka again. His not-princess still appeared to be slightly displeased.

Heero abruptly decided to distract himself. "Tsuitachi, futsuka, mikkawa arashi. Yokka, itsuka, muikawa amefuri." The not-princess's expression shifted from displeased to incredulity. Heero counted that as success. Anything less than anger improved his chances for successfully accomplishing his personal kissing mission. "Nanoka, yooka, kokonokawa kumotte. Tookawa minnade pikunikku!"

"What in the fuck have you been smoking, Yuy?" 

Heero observed the red face, clenched fists, hair all but standing on end and decided that Duo's incredulity was a side-effect of his peevishness rather than a positive step toward kissing.

"You intentionally got me re-captured," his not-princess was howling at the top of his lungs, "to follow some stupid mission plan that you _researched_ based on information you received from _fangirls_ who are completely _insane_ to begin with! And now," the not-princess took a breath around his clenched teeth, "now, you're sitting there singing the fucking calendar song! I've fucking had it with you! You are not rescuing me; I'm rescuing you and sticking your spandexed ass in Betty Ford to get you off whatever drugs you've been taking!"

"You are unhappy," Heero observed.

"Unhappy! _Unhappy_! I'll fucking show you fucking unhappy!" 

"Perhaps we should kiss. That would remedy any feelings of unhappiness." He rather thought that was a wise proposal and he felt that his baka would have to be insane not to take him up on the offer.

The not-princess, who appeared to be dangerously close to breaking blood vessels in his cheeks, launched himself at Heero, fists swinging. "I'm flaming pissed, you perfect assed asshole!"

The door opened before Heero could tenderly render his hysterical not-princess unconscious with a gentle love-tap to the jaw.

"Isn't _this_ interesting."

Duo shifted his wrath from Heero to the incoming guard. "Shut the fuck up, dicksnot, before I kick your fucking ass!"

"Colonel Une wants a word with you, sweetheart." Dicksnot, known to his friends as Samson the Token Straight Guy, smirked at Heero. "Don't worry, loverboy, you've got an admirer as well. Goddamned homo perverts."

Heero quietly followed along behind Samson while watching with a mixture of rage and idle curiosity as four of the big, burly Oz officers wrestled a kicking and screaming not-princess down the hallway. He made a mental note to hunt those four down and subject them to a slow death when it came time to rescue his baka. Samson ushered him into an office and chained Heero to a chair. He left as Zechs Marquise entered and made himself comfortable behind the desk.

"Heero," Zechs said warmly. "Pleasure to see you again, though I would prefer better circumstances. How have you been?"

Heero grunted.

"I hope you don't think me too intrusive, but ever since our little debriefing at Peacemillion, I've wondered if you've made any progress on your mission and if I was helpful at all." Zechs offered a smile. "I've never been a sex-ed professor before."

"Progress on Mission: Sex has stalled since the not-princess had been captured by Oz. He didn't seem interested in kissing a few minutes ago. Mission: Marry the Princess has been cancelled." Heero shook his head. "I understand you were looking forward to being the best man, but we won't be marrying."

Zechs blinked. "Why not? I thought you liked Duo."

"I want to have sex."

"That's why I thought you liked Duo enough to marry him."

It was Heero's turn to blink with confusion. "I like him enough to have sex with him. That is why I can't marry him."

"I don't understand."

"Married personnel do not have sex." 

"Married people have sex all the time. I keep telling Treize to give newlyweds matrimonial leave because they're too busy screwing like weasels to get any work done, but Une thinks it's nonsense. Of course, she's frigid." Zechs shook his head. "Where did you get the idea that you don't have sex after marriage?"

Heero frowned in consternation. Zechs was incredibly knowledgeable about sexual matters. He did, after all, engage in it. Duo appeared to be equally knowledgeable, but he hadn't had sex, by his own admission. It stood to reason that Zechs would know more about the issue than Duo by dint of simple experience. "Not-princess Duo stated that he did not want to marry me because then he could not have sex with me."

Zechs leaned back in his chair. "I see. I think that's Helen's fault."

"Helen?" Heero would have cocked his head to the side and looked confused if he'd been anyone else.

"Duo's mother. Adopted mother, that is. When King Howard was young, he got really drunk and convinced Helen that she would be a Bride of Christ if she married him. Once they got back from Vegas and she sobered up, she refused to have sex with him ever again. Relena and Duo are adopted children. Duo grew up listening to King Howard whining about the lack of sex in marriage. He really didn't have any other examples to work with, so he probably took his parents' example as fact. Considering that everyone at Peacemillion thinks he's a girl, he really never had any proper sex education. He was told to keep his night gown on, lie there, and think of England."

Heero blinked in shock again. "You can have sex after marriage? You're positive about this?"

"Absolutely. Think about it logically. Would Duo be any less attractive to you if you married him? Would you still want to kiss him?"

Heero thought about what those movies indicated marriage meant, then nodded curtly. This romantic love business did not apply to him, but he couldn't see how walking in circles in front of a member of the clergy would make Duo any less attractive. It might, in fact, make him more attractive since part of those vows Haircut Boy and the onna had exchanged included the words "forsaking all others". Heero would consider himself pleased if he could get his baka to promise that. No more _Treize-baby_ and no more pool boy.

"Sex isn't much different. It's all hormones and erections. If you get hard thinking about him now, it's not going to change once you're married."

Heero nodded curtly and began to reconsider wooing strategies.

.

_Back in Treize's suite...._

.

Treize broke the torrid kiss to whisper his ardent desire. "Chang Wufei. At last I have you in my clutches. To have my way with you. The way I want to." 

Wufei twisted his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut. "No, no, please, leave me alone!" 

"No, you are mine!" Treize's lips followed, brushing a kiss on his cheek. "Chang Wufei. At last we are alone." 

Wufei writhed in Treize's arms. "Oh, no! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Leave me alone! Yet, I find you strangely attractive."

"Of course you do. Gundam pilots are often attracted to money and power, and I have both, and you know it." 

Wufei whimpered beneath the warm breath washing over his cheek. "Oh! Leave me alone!" 

"No, kiss me," Treize demanded, pressing the length of his body firmly against the tempting boy beneath him. 

"No, no! Yes! No!" Wufei's head lashed from side to side even as his hips rose to meet the thrust of the man above him.

"No!" Treize denied huskily, capturing Wufei's throat with his mouth.

"Yes! No! Yes!" Wufei moaned, arching his body. "Ah! Oh! Oh! Uh! Oh!" Wufei moaned again, cuddling against Treize. "Ohhh, your epaulets are so big!"

The door exploded open and Colonel Une marched in. "Lord Khushrenada!" 

Treize scrunched around Wufei, hiding him from Colonel Une's piercing gaze. "What?!"

Colonel Une's eyes widened, then she snapped her attention to a point above and to the left of Treize's head. "You're needed on the bridge, sir."

Treize glared. "Knock on my door! Knock next time!"

Colonel Une bowed. "Yes sir." 

"Did you see anything?" Treize snapped. Wufei held his breath.

Colonel Une's left cheek twitched, but she did not break eye contact with the middle distance. "No sir. I didn't see you playing with your dragon again."

"Good!" Treize nodded sharply, relieved. "Now go away!"

Wufei pressed his face to Treize's chest in humiliation. "Kisama."

.

_Down in the dungeon...._

.

Duo glared. "You know, this tying me to a steel table thing is getting fucking old. Don't you goons have any imagination?"

"Shut up, gundam scum!" Single Brain Cell shouted in the same tone one might use to sieg heil the furor.

"Get a new catch phrase!" Duo bellowed back. "What the _hell_ is that?!"

A lab technician in a white lab coat had sauntered up behind Single Brain Cell and was industriously tapping air bubbles out of a yellow liquid in a hypodermic needle. "Just a little sedative mixed with estrogen."

" _What_?!" Duo yanked at his restraints, arching his body away from the guy with the needle.

A guy in a white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck came up to his other side. "Easy there, Mr. Maxwell. It will be much more pleasant for you if you stay calm."

"Fuck calm!" Duo roared, jerking his biceps away from the guy with the needle.

The doctor guy sighed. "I see we'll have to do this hard way. No matter, the uterus will go in whether you like it or not."

"Uterus!" Duo shrieked.

"Of course. We plan on impregnating you. Naturally, we have the father of your child all picked out, but we're secretly hoping that young man of yours will break you out of here and impregnate you instead. That way, when we kidnap you again, we'll have the Perfect Soldier's baby to turn into the first of in our army of trained, genetically modified, super soldiers!"

"And you couldn't just give him some porn and a little cup to jack off into?"

"Now, now, Mr. Maxwell. There's no need to get excited."

Duo squealed when the needle slid into his arm.

"While it's undoubtedly more efficient and tactically a smarter move to use actual females to produce a line of trained, genetically modified, super soldiers, we find it much more entertaining to plant wombs in gundam pilots and make them bear children. It's a lot of fun, don't you think?"

"Heeero!" Duo roared. "You better come and fucking rescue me right goddamned now if you know what the fuck is good for your perfect goddamned ass!"

The doctor smiled and patted his hand. "Besides, Colonel Une is against General Khushrenada having sex with a male and you will need to produce an heir or two. Cheer up, Princess, soon you'll actually be a princess."

"Heeeeeeeeeero!" Duo fought against the tide of darkness. " _Heero_...."

.

_Down the hall...._

.

Heero cocked his head toward the door, frowning, then exploded to his feet. "Duo!"

Zechs paused in the midst of his opinion on wooing battle tactics and frowned as well. "What?"

Heero ignored him in favor of demolishing the chains that held him to the chair. Almost as an afterthought, he yanked his wrists apart and snapped the links of his handcuffs. He leaped for the door, sending it crashing to splinter against the dank wall across the hall. He bounded through the opening and charged, roaring. 

Several big, burly Oz officers opened fire, their shots pinging off the gray stone. The perfect soldier plowed into their midst, swinging his right fist and killing all of them in a single punch. Bellowing in rage as Duo's last cry echoed through the corridors, Heero pounded down the hallways until he came to the room where the now unconscious Duo lay.

His eyes widened as he took in his baka strapped, naked, to a steel table. Two persons in lab coats looked up, startled. One of them held a scalpel to the silken skin of Duo's creamy belly, preparing to make an incision. "No!" the one with the scalpel wailed. "You're not supposed to rescue him until _after_ I implant the womb!"

Heero paused for a moment, recalling that several of the simulated rescue missions agreed with the doctor's analysis of his mission. Duo with a womb? Heero broke the doctor's neck and plunged the scalpel into the other lab coat's eye. Though mission parameters required that he cry and kiss his baka at this point, Heero decided to ignore that in favor of unbuckling the leather restraints and tossing Duo over his shoulder. He had no experience in the area, but he imagined that it would be rather inconvenient to rescue his not-princess if he were sporting the erection kissing Duo would invariably create. Particularly since his not-princess was unconscious and in no position to evaluate his hung status.

Pausing in the warden's office to collect his sidearms and Wufei's katana, Heero killed two more big, burly Oz officers with a flick of his pinky. He fought with a pair of the warden's sweatpants and Duo's legs before he got them on his sleeping baka. He considered adding the sweatshirt so no one else would see Duo's chest, but the sounds of guards pouring into the dungeon area had him scooping up his not-princess and racing through the hallways to find Wufei.

.

_Back in Treize's suite_

.

Treize placed the glowering Wufei in the center if his decadently large bed covered with silken sheets. "You're beautiful, my dragon."

"Your plan is to kill me slowly with stupid compliments. I had no idea you were so sadistic, tyrant."

Treize chuckled and leaned over his prize, pressing kisses along that stubbornly set jaw. "Of course not, lovely dragon. I merely state fact."

Wufei snorted in a most unlovely manner. "Enough of this injustice. Get on with it. I have things to do other than wait around on an old man who can't get it up."

Treize nibbled on the pouting lower lip. "I'm not the limp one, my dragon." He thrust himself against Wufei's hip, putting a delicious pressure on the tip of his erection. He gently sucked on the swollen lip. "My virility is not in doubt."

"And you claim that mine is!" Wufei snarled and attacked, opening his lips and sheathing his tongue inside of Treize's mouth. 

Treize moaned, deep in his chest, and licked at that squirming, wet tongue. He sucked at it, swallowing the accompanying groan, and eased himself onto his lover, chest to chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. Wufei bucked up, rocking insistently and proving that Treize wasn't the only one feeling particularly virile. He moaned again, pumping his hips against Wufei's. 

Wufei ripped his mouth away, teeth bared. "I am _more_ than up to the challenge, tyrant. Never forget that."

Lapping at the strong curve of exposed throat, he suppressed a chuckle. "I have no doubt that you have risen to the occasion, dragon."

"This duel," Wufei hissed, "I will win." His legs wrapped themselves around Treize's hips and squeezed. Before he knew what had happened, Treize found himself flat on his back with a tongue dominating the interior of his mouth. He arched, shoving himself between the thighs straddling him and against the body above him. Wufei shifted, pushing his knee down until Treize spread his legs to accommodate it. Wufei smiled ferally and nipped at the jaw, then the ear. 

"I defeated you, dragon." He tugged at Wufei's tank top, yanking it completely off.

"And you'll get fucked for it, tyrant." Wufei was less subtle, he simply ripped Treize's shirt from his body.

Treize twisted his head, letting those teeth nibble where they would. "You have a pretty ass, my dragon, and I intend to take it."

Wufei smirked and ripped at the fastenings to Treize's pants, sending buttons flying and a zipper screeching in protest. He yanked the pants down, pulling the underlying tightie whities with them. Before he could close his legs, Wufei was between them again, spreading them wide. He leaned over, arms braced on either side of Treize's head, and bit at the general's lips and chin. "If it pleases you to believe so," he growled between nips, "then by all means, tyrant. Think such things all you like, even when you are begging me to take you."

Treize managed to summon a husky laugh. "Any begging will be done by you, my precious dragon, with your head in the pillows and your backside in the air."

"You will be beneath me, tyrant." The smirk returned and a hand slid between them, brushing past a lengthy erection, below a tightened scrotum, to trail a gundam-calloused finger into the cleft. The finger paused at the small hole, pushing inward gently, at the sound of a gasp. "And I will be _here_."

Treize couldn't help the instinctive thrust of his hips. After watching a triumphant smile spread slowly on Wufei's face, he wasn't sure he wanted to stop. "You are entitled to fantasy, dragon."

Wufei laughed at that, crooking his finger and slowly tickling. "Rosebud."

"Eh?"

Wufei took a long, deliberate lap at Treize's throat. "You named your _sheath_ Rosebud. If that is not the mark of a true bottom, then nothing else is."

The finger pressed a bit deeper and Treize hissed. 

"You're hot inside. And moist." Wufei sucked on the bit flesh just beneath his earlobe. "You have a choice, tyrant, you may either fetch lubrication or you may suck me." Wufei bit his adam's apple. "I recommend the lubrication."

"Bedside table," Treize managed around a groan. Wufei leaned and rummaged, pulling that teasing finger away. Treize took advantage of his off-balance stretch to wrestle him to his back, tube clutched in his fist.

He expected an adorable death glare from his grumpy dragon, but ended up with a sly smile. "So you prefer to ride, Rosebud?"

"I'm going to thoroughly enjoy being inside of you, dragon." He smirked and tugged the white pants down. "Dear God."

It was Wufei's turn to smirk. "See something you like?"

"Dear God," he breathed again.

"I'm bishounen. That means that not only am I a pervert, I come well equipped." Wufei sat up to delicately run the flat of his tongue over a hardened nipple. He pushed the tube into Treize's hand. "Prepare yourself for me, tyrant."

"I—"

Wufei bit the pectoral nuzzling at his nose. Treize gasped and fumbled audibly with the tube. Wufei soothed the indentations left by his teeth with long, slow strokes of his tongue. His hand slipped between them to wrap around the hot flesh stabbing into his stomach. Treize's head lolled back and he groaned, shoving into the curl of Wufei's palm. Moments later, he swallowed a low keen and dropped his forehead to Wufei's shoulder. His hips twitched in a jerky parody of sex.

"How many fingers do you have inside of yourself, Rosebud?"

That husky voice caressed his spine, turning his muscles to jelly. "One."

"Your cock is in my hand, tyrant," Wufei whispered against his breast bone.

Treize reflexively thrust himself into Wufei's belly, leaving a trail of precum. "You have such a way with the obvious, dragon."

Wufei laughed, the deep rumble in his chest and ripple of his abdominals sending gentle vibrations tumbling down into Treize's erection. His thumb swirled through the wetness dripping along the head. "You like it when I state the obvious," Wufei said between nibbles along the curve of Treize's chest. "You like it when I say words like _cock_ , don't you?"

He could only answer with the introduction of a second finger and a long, low groan.

"Did you just stick in another finger, tyrant? Are you stretching yourself for my _cock_?"

How could the word cock sound so deliciously naughty when Wufei said it? It made his insides clench, his stomach muscles tighten, his heart beat a bit faster, and the tight ring around his fingers bear down almost painfully. He was a soldier who lived among soldiers. The word cock was as commonplace as the word boots. By all rights, it shouldn't do anything to him. Wufei's dirty little dialogue was considerably tame compared to most of what went on around the castle. And it turned him on to no end. His uptight, prudish little dragon was hot in bed.

Wufei grabbed his wrist to tug his free hand down, between them. The tips of his fingers brushed something hot, hard, and thick. He turned his hand over, sliding the backs of his fingers down the sloping underside before twisting them to wrap firmly around the base. It was Wufei's turn to groan and thrust up into the tightness fisting him. Treize pulled his hand up, twirling his fingers along the full length and then squeezing all the way back down again. He slipped another finger inside of himself while Wufei's two hands tugged gently on his shaft and his palm cupped the dripping head of Wufei's cock. He rocked back onto his own impaling digits, arching his back and thrusting his hips. 

"Have you managed three fingers yet, tyrant?"

"Yes," he hissed, unable to resist taking Wufei's mouth and dueling with that clever tongue. 

"Prepare my cock, tyrant," Wufei said, his lips working over Treize's. "Be certain to use enough lube. With your delusions of dominance, I imagine you are tight with disuse."

Treize growled, thrusting his tongue into his arrogant dragon to shut him up. Wufei growled back and caught the offender between his teeth with a gentle roughness that sent shivers down his spine. Without breaking contact with Wufei's lips, Treize moved upward and forward, until the hot length of Wufei's erection pushed past his balls and along the cleft of his ass. It nudged against the sensitive ring of muscle accommodating the spread of his fingers, leaving a smear of wet. He shifted his hips farther, tilting them forward, and let his fingers slide out to clasp the hot erection. He guided it, letting it nudge again, pressing toward his open hole. 

There, dripping slit met throbbing entrance, one thrusting up and one thrusting down. Treize gritted his teeth and pushed, swallowing the gasp of pain as his body swallowed Wufei. Yes, oh yes. He pushed down harder, ignoring the sting of stretching, his hips jerking with each inch gained.

Wufei ripped his mouth away from the kiss. "That's it, tyrant, take my cock. Ride me." He teethed at the joining of neck and shoulder, nipping hard when Treize stopped his descent, licking and purring when he moved.

Treize leaned back, supporting his weight on hands braced beneath him and thighs locked on Wufei. He moved, undulating sinuously with random twists and jerks of his hips. Inside, Wufei's erection rubbed, scraping the sensitive clench of his opening and prodding against his prostate. With Wufei's hands on his cock, all he needed was to speed up in his riding a little bit to orgasm. He considered it, already buoyed on the gathering of sensation in the pit of his belly and running along the length of his spine. He slowed instead, until he was doing nothing more than rocking the head of Wufei's cock against his prostate.

"Do you have any idea how sexy you look, tyrant?"

"No." He shut his eyes and concentrated on the thrust of cock deep inside his body.

"I want to mount you. I want to push you down onto your hands and knees and shove my _cock_ into you. I want to watch you squirm on it and listen to you beg for more, tyrant."

Treize slid off almost immediately, rolling to his hands and knees. He glared over his shoulder when his dragon didn't move fast enough. Wufei laughed, smacking an upturned buttock hard enough to leave a red print. He knelt behind Treize and slid home with one, long thrust. 

"Now fuck yourself on my _cock_."

Treize paused, shivering at the mental image that presented. He was rewarded with another stinging slap to his rump. At any other time he would have been indignant enough to jail the offender. At that moment, it did nothing but turn him on all the more.

"Fuck my _cock_ , tyrant," Wufei demanded.

He groaned and did just that. He rocked back onto Wufei, thrusting with his entire body. He leaned forward slowly, savoring the intensity of his ass sucking on the full length of that erection. Once nothing but the tip was embedded, he shoved back, again with his entire body. The power and the roughness of the penetration was almost too much. He cried out, probably his dragon's name, maybe incoherent pleading for more of the same. Wufei smacked him again and he increased the pace of his fucking.

"You're fucking my cock," Wufei growled.

"You, ah, are so, ah, observant. Oh God!" That cock had speared him directly in the prostate. 

That was apparently enough to push his dragon over the edge of his control. Wufei grabbed his hips with bruising force and pounded into him. Wufei's breath panted hot and heavy along the ridges of his spine. Treize tossed his head back and found himself helplessly shoving against the mattress just to remain upright against the onslaught of Wufei's thrusting. 

The pulsing and tingling that had been centered around his entrance spread. It traveled along his spine and swallowed his erection whole. He saw explosions of white every time he blinked. He could hear nothing but the harsh gasps of his own breathing, the roaring blood in his ears, and loud grunts Wufei made with every powerful downstroke. The final straw was the strong fingers wrapping around his throbbing cock and jerking. 

Treize could see only darkness and white spots. His entire existence was narrowed down to his spurting cock and the frantic thrusting in his ass. He thought he screamed, but he couldn't hear himself over the white noise of his orgasm. Wufei shouted something in Mandarin, nails digging into the hips he held, and he lunged forward, seating himself as fully as physically possible to begin his reflexive ejaculation. His hips twitched uncontrollably as he emptied himself.

Moments later, Wufei all but collapsed on top of him. A sweaty chest stuck to his equally sweaty back. Inside, Wufei began to slowly lose his hardness and slip from the clasp of Treize's body. 

Treize's eyes drifted shut and the after-orgasm lethargy set in. All was right with the world. At least it was until the door crashed open.

He cracked an eye at the sound of a gasp. He flinched. Zechs.

.

_Somewhere in the castle...._

.

Heero stomped down a corridor, rapidly losing whatever was left of his temper. He had been all over the first few levels in his search for Wufei. He muttered curses in Japanese, threatening all manner of fates worse than death on that sleek, black-haired head. Duo remained slack over his shoulder and seemed to be getting heavier by the step. The baka had almost been light as a feather in the beginning, but now Heero's back was aching and he could feel each vertebrae as it slowly compressed into peanut butter.

When he found Wufei, he was going to make that Chinese bastard carry his baka.

.

_Back in Treize's suite...._

.

"Treize...." Zechs whispered, all color draining from his face.

Treize winced. "Zechs, love. It's not what it looks like."

Zechs didn't seem amused. Wufei shifted to glare at the intruder.

Treize shut his eyes as the last bit of Wufei slipped out of his rear. "It is what it looks like."

"It rather looks like you've just gotten fucked." Zechs crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his lover.

What could he say to that? Treize sat up, dislodging Wufei from the comfortable sprawl on his back. "Love...."

Zechs wasn't buying it. "You're in bed with another man and you're calling me love?"

Wufei doubled up his fist and took a swing at Treize. "Lecher! Is it not enough that you must demand such, such _injustice_ from me, but you must dishonor your lover, as well!?"

Treize ducked the blow. Zechs lifted an eyebrow and appeared to be trying very hard to hide his amusement. Treize grinned. "Can you blame me, love?"

"Not in the least, lover." Zechs locked the door behind him and slowly crossed the room, unbuttoning his uniform jacket as he went.

Wufei gaped in astonishment.

.

_Somewhere in the castle...._

.

Heero snarled in frustration and punched a hole in a wall just to make himself feel better. Wufei was _still_ missing and the baka now weighed three tons. He decided to head back down to the dungeon just so he could kill someone. He curtly about-faced and marched toward the cell block. There were a few of those big, burly Oz officers that he'd promised a slow and painful death for bothering his Duo. Not to mention the two who required a quick butt de-cutizing. He wasn't taking any chances until he'd gotten the forsaking all others vow out of his baka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The direct quotation and minor paraphrasing when Treize at last has Wufei in his clutches is from the Mel Brooks movie "Spaceballs". The narrative prose is mine, the dialogue is not. This situation is intended as a Gundam Wing parody.


	15. You're Not Wearing Any Underwear!

Heero stalked through the corridors of the dungeon, snarling to himself. Big, burly Oz officers scattered like so many cockroaches in the light. He didn't give chase because he was in the middle of a discussion with his common sense. The smart move would have been to put his not-princess down in a secured location, then deal with the Oz officers. He'd gone so far as to try to put his not-princess down in several areas, but never managed to pry his hand away from its hold on his baka's firm butt. It was unreasonable to expect a soldier to fight with one hand on a baka's backside, but putting his baka down was out of the question.

Grunting in frustration, he pulled out his left hand .50 AE, chambered a round, and thumbed back the safety. He was just going to have to make the death slow with a gut shot rather than slow by dismemberment. He squeezed Duo's butt—he had recently decided that it qualified as cute, even if he was no judge of such things—and stomped down the corridors.

It wasn't very difficult to find the four big, burly Oz officers that had tormented his baka. He got them by dint of bursting into the break room, baka butt first, and shooting the ones that looked familiar. Shrugging philosophically with his free shoulder and grunting to himself, he shot the rest as well. Loose ends were not acceptable in mission accomplishment.

Narrowing his eyes, he noticed the magazines spread out on the table amongst the paper coffee cups with pictures of playing cards on them and half-eaten sandwich things. He shot the ones that had been sitting around the table again, just for good measure, even though they were dead. The one with an erection earned himself an extra two bullets. No one was permitted to enjoy sexually arousing pictures of _his_ baka without _his_ express permission. Period.

Dumping his not-princess on the pool table, he found an extremely convenient half-full container of MS fuel sitting beside the doorway. He didn't stop to consider why there was MS fuel in the dungeon, let alone why a hazardous substance would be sitting in a break room rather than in a hazmat locker. Instead, he piled all of the magazines he could find on the lunch room table and lifted the fuel can. He frowned for a moment, then peeked over his shoulder to make sure Duo was still knocked out. Out cold. "Ninmu ryoukai."

He sorted through the magazines and chose the best copies of the ones that appealed to him the most. After carefully tucking them into his spandex where they would be safe, he poured the MS fuel over the table. Tossing the can aside, he shouldered his baka again. Laughing to himself, he lit a match and tossed it into the center of the pool of fuel. Unlike matches in real life, it didn't go out; it turned the table into an explosion of swiftly burning magazines. With his laughter trailing off into comfortingly evil chortles, he smirked. "Ninmu kanryu."

Now all he had to do was find Wufei.

Fifty eight minutes and fifteen wrong turns later, Heero drew his left hand .50 AE and kicked open the door to Khushrenada's suite. He stormed in, prepared to kick ass and take names, then came to a shocked halt.

He'd found Wufei.

Blinking, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his free hand. It was Wufei. His eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Seeing a very naked Khushrenada, with his belly pressed to the bed, writhing beneath an equally naked Wufei who had a mostly naked Zechs thrusting heavily into him, Heero could only think of one thing. "Why couldn't you explain what hide the salami means?"

.

_Thirty minutes later...._

.

A bright red Wufei trotted on a pissed off Heero's heels toward the front door.

"I still do not see why it was necessary to kick Tre—er, Khushrenada in the backside like that."

Heero grunted. He had more pressing concerns than Wufei's indignation over the state of _Treize-baby's_ butt. All that mattered was that _Treize-baby's_ butt was no longer as cute as it might have been earlier.

Two guards leaped in front of the open doors to stop them. Heero drew his pistol and shot one between the eyes. The other one squealed, dropped his gun and cowered. "Please don't hurt me!"

Heero paused, glaring arrogantly at the man. "Stand up."

"We do not have time for this!" Wufei spat.

Heero ignored him in favor of the guard. "Turn around."

Wufei crossed his arms and hissed in annoyance.

Heero narrowed his eyes and glared at the guard's butt. "Chang, do you think his butt is cute?"

" _What_?!"

He really needed to learn the parameters regarding the cuteness of butts. He didn't want to waste the effort on uncute butts and he certainly didn't want to miss any cute ones. Until then, he would take no chances. "You are correct, Chang. It is irrelevant." Heero de-cuteized the guard's butt anyway.

Wufei gaped at the prone and moaning guard for a moment before trotting after Heero again. "Yuy, are you _insane_?"

Heero didn't bother to answer. He had more important things to worry about. His baka was currently drooling all over his back and he was concerned about the saliva entering his spandex space and ruining the condition of his magazines before he a chance to properly enjoy them.

.

_At the rendezvous point...._

.

Heero resettled his baka's hands for the third time and critically eyed the small bed of leaves he'd created to pillow his baka's head. He ignored the brief what-to-do-now argument that had erupted between Wufei and Quatre and shifted his baka's legs again. Deciding that he'd gotten the not-princess as comfortable as physically possible without his input on the matter, Heero turned to the small group.

"We must go into hiding," he stated.

Wufei glared. Quatre looked thoughtful. Trowa looked, well, Trowa looked the same.

"Khushrenada did not accomplish his mission so he will come for Duo. We cannot permit him to capture the baka again. We cannot return to Peacemillion or the old castle by the mountains."

Quatre sighed. "True, Heero. We can't go to my father's either."

Wufei snorted. "I will be just fine."

Heero glared. "They were squishing you."

"Squishing?" Quatre cocked his head.

Wufei flared into day-glo red again. "It is nothing, Winner. What do you suggest, Yuy?"

"We will hide in a boarding school. Oz would never think to look for us there. Since they will—" A low moan from the ground cut him off. He leaped for his baka, to help him sit up.

"Heero? Wha—?"

"You are fine, baka. I rescued you."

"Dun wan' be rescued." Duo slumped, face first, into Heero's chest.

"You would rather have stayed with that doctor?"

Duo suddenly shrieked and began ripping at the sweatpants. "Nooooooo!"

"Baka," Heero chided partly in disgust. "I rescued you before they could turn you into a princess." Duo slumped against him again, sighing in relief. Heero settled back against the tree, pleased.

Wufei lifted an eyebrow. "What is this?"

"Oz planned on—"

"Not a single word, Yuy," Duo growled.

"Whatever plans Oz has in store for you can affect us all, Duo," Quatre said gently. "We must know what they are so that we might plan for any contingency."

"No!"

"Du _o_."

"Qua _tre_."

Quatre sighed. "If we don't know, we could very well fail the mission."

Heero jerked, then squeezed Duo. Fail the mission! "Oz intended to implant a womb in Duo's body and impregnate him."

"A womb?" Quatre blinked. "But why?"

Wufei choked on a breath he couldn't let out, then fell to the ground, howling with laughter. "Maxwell! An onna!" This sent him off into more laughter.

"This is why I didn't want to tell!" Duo yelled, leaping to his feet.

Heero noted the distressed state of his baka, calmly drew both .50 AEs and pointed them at Wufei. He thumbed back both hammers. "Shut up." Wufei shut up.

Quatre blinked. He cleared his throat as diplomatically as possible. "What was your plan for hiding, Heero?"

Grunting in satisfaction, he holstered the gun. "We will enroll in a boarding school. Oz will be looking for five boys, so three of us will pose as girls."

Wufei snickered to himself. "Maxwell is already halfway there."

His baka tensed. Duo had been mistaken for a girl for most of his life, even by those who had seen his external urinary equipment. It was only tactically smart to have Duo continue to pose as a girl since he had practice at it. "Duo will be a boy. As will Winner. The rest of us will pose as girls."

Shock met that statement. Duo twisted his head to stare into Heero's eyes. "Really? You mean that?"

"Of course, baka."

"Chang Wufei does not dress as a girl!" Wufei roared.

"Perhaps you should explain why you were being squished between—"

"Silence, Yuy!" Wufei glowered. "I will accept this mission for the good of my comrades."

"Squished?" Duo sounded intensely interested.

Quatre diplomatically cleared his throat again. "First, we will need to enroll in a school. Then we will need to get the appropriate clothing for it."

"I will hack into an appropriate institution and secure us enrollment," Heero stated.

"Good. Once you've done that, we need to find a mall." Four, well, three and a half sets of eyes blinked uncomprehendingly at Quatre. "A mall is a large building that houses dozens of retail outlets. We will find all we need to blend in with the students at the school."

Heero's confusion dropped directly into mission mode "I will require a locking briefcase."

"I'm sure we can find one."

"Ninmu ryoukai."

.

_The next afternoon...._

.

Five boys stood in the food court, gaping. This was more than a shrine to rampant consumerism, this was a feeding frenzy! There were fangirls everywhere and it required stealth and evasion tactics to keep them from pouncing. Heero had only been there for fifteen seconds and he was already prepared to leave. Wufei wasn't taking this much better.

"There's a few stores that cater to both sexes," Quatre said brightly. "We'll do those first so we can try on clothes."

Naturally, this excited all of them since everyone knows that teenaged boys _adore_ trying on clothes.

In the end, it took Heero's gun to force Wufei and Duo into a store without causing a scene. Quatre only had to lift an eyebrow and say the words "cut off for a week" before Trowa was suddenly the very picture of cooperation. Heero tried it on his baka, but had only gotten a dirty look and something mostly unintelligible that involved the words "haven't", "sex", and "yet". It didn't work on Wufei, either, but the resulting verbal histrionics were much more spectacular.

"I don't see why I have to do this, I'm not the one being a girl!" Duo snarled, glaring at the girl clothes on the racks.

Quatre sighed. "They're _not_ for you. It would just look silly if three boys suddenly started trying on girl's clothes. We'd get evicted from the premises. You're wearing a dress, so if you took clothes to the dressing room, they can try them on to figure out the size and then we can pretend we're buying them for you."

Duo sniffed. "It's still humiliating."

"At least you're not wearing them," Quatre said softly. "Heero is."

Duo sighed and suddenly looked so lost that it took every ounce of willpower Heero possessed to keep from hitting Quatre for distressing his baka. "He is, isn't he?"

Quatre smiled and patted the not-princess on the shoulder. "It will all work out, Duo. You'll see."

"I guess," Duo grumbled. He accepted the armful of clothes Quatre had sorted through and stomped off to the fitting rooms.

Trowa was already there, holding Wufei hostage in one of the dressing stalls. Quatre went in first with Heero bringing up the rear, death glaring helpful salesgirls into running out into the store to look for something a little less dangerous to do.

"Kisama! Injustice!"

"Wufei just found the pink dress you picked out." Duo grinned, suddenly liking this idea a lot.

"I was just getting it out of the way, Maxwell," Wufei growled. His bare arm stabbed through the curtain imperiously and snatched some of the clothing Quatre held.

Heero grunted and took the clothes Duo held into a changing room. He listened to Wufei's muttering, Quatre's praise of Trowa's assets, and Duo's occasional barely-stifled giggle while he pulled on a skirt and blouse torture device. Glaring in the mirror, he discovered that he'd have to go without the spandex shorts. They were clearly visible through the pale colored fabric. Instead, he settled his holsters on beneath the skirt and did his best to hide them within the folds of combed cotton. Once he was satisfied that the female rig was settled on his person as best as it was going to be, he hesitantly stepped through the curtain.

Duo looked up from the end of his braid when he stepped out. Trowa and Wufei were still in their respective dressing facilities and Quatre had taken up point position by the entrance to fitting rooms to keep others out. Heero tugged at the skirt and ducked his head a little when Duo smiled. "Can you see my holsters?"

Duo frowned thoughtfully and tapped his chin. Quatre smirked, but offered no opinion. "Turn around."

Heero obediently turned around.

"A little bit. Come here."

Heero stepped up to Duo and let his baka adjust his clothing. He tossed a glare at Quatre, who was pretending that he wasn't watching the two of them, then looked down at his baka's face. He promptly forgot everything. He forgot Quatre, he forgot the possibility of enemy attack, he forgot about salesgirls and roaming Oz patrols. He forgot he was wearing a skirt. His baka was concentrating heavily on the area around his crotch, adjusting the waistband and moving the hem of the blouse. His tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth, just a little bit. Heero remembered what that tongue felt like in his mouth. Duo's hand slid up the length of his thigh, paused, then did it again a little faster. A moment later his baka's palm was cupped around his bare butt cheek and his baka's wide eyes were staring directly into his. The front of the skirt twitched and began to stick out just a little.

Duo blinked. "I, um, need to adjust more stuff. Maybe we should go back in there so, um, we can, um, maintain some privacy?"

"Hn."

Duo smiled and tugged him into the dressing room. Duo dropped down onto the small stool, putting himself nearly eye level with Heero's groin, and went back to adjusting stuff. Heero decided that it was very pleasant to have his baka's hands wandering over his body. Duo leaned forward a little, resting his forehead on Heero's belly. His hands dropped to Heero's calves, where bare flesh met bare flesh. Heero couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine. Those hands moved, following the muscular curve of calf and then thigh, all the while pushing the hem of the skirt higher and higher. The fabric bunched in front, between Duo's wrists, slowly revealing more and more of Heero's legs. If his baka went any higher, skin that was usually covered in spandex would be bared for his baka to see. While he felt uncertain about exposing himself in such a public place, he thought that if his not-princess kept it up, he would be able to verify Heero's hungness status without much effort.

It was the oddest sensation he'd felt, now that he thought about it. In the past, the only time he'd ever had his penis grow harder was while wearing his shorts. He usually only bared it when it was fully hard, and never while standing with it dangling between his spread legs. The baka stopped moving his hands when they reached his hips. The skirt was pooled over his baka's forearms and his penis prodded at the material, just out of sight. Heero closed his eyes and clenched his teeth in an effort to control his breathing and his shaking knees. He could feel his baka's hot breath washing over the bare skin of his inner thighs. The flesh of his groin felt hotter with each breath and he could almost state with certainty that his baka was breathing along the underside of his penis. It felt so good. A few centimeters and a layer of cloth was all that separated his erection from his baka's mouth. Heero suddenly found it extremely difficult to breathe.

"Heero?"

He blinked at the sound of his name, looking down into his not-princess's face.

"You're not wearing any underwear."

It was a ridiculous observation considering that the baka's fingers were brushing against the edges of his bare butt cheeks. He shook his head anyway.

"Heero?"

There was a long pause while his baka stared into his eyes. He didn't particularly notice the expression in those eyes since the fingers tracing short sweeps on his buttocks and the simple fact that a twitch of his hips would put his erection into the baka's mouth held the majority of his attention.

"Can I see your cock?"

Liquid heat pooled in the organ under discussion. Could he see his cock? A stupid question, of _course_ his baka could see his cock. "Hn."

The baka smiled then returned his gaze to Heero's crotch. Both of them held perfectly still, not daring to breathe, as his baka wrapped his fingers around the bunched fabric and pushed it upward to his waist.

The first thing he noticed was that the hot, moist exhalation from his not-princess was infinitely better against his penis, no, _cock_ , than it was against his thighs. His baka licked his lips and leaned a bit closer, until his breath stirred the curls of hair along the base. Heero desperately wanted his baka to lick _him_. Duo licked his lips again, almost reflexively, and Heero couldn't stop the minute twitch of his hips. His cock, flopping briefly with the motion, rubbed along Duo's nose and cheek. Heero heard himself groan and watched his baka's eyes close. He didn't have to move again, Duo leaned into him, rubbing his face along the underside of his erection. Heero decided that this felt better than cleaning his gun. It even felt better than a successful ninmu kanryu.

Duo twisted his face, pressing his cheek against Heero's bare belly and touched his lips to the long shaft. Heero's knees quivered and he silently begged Duo to just open his mouth. Duo reached up, his fingers slipping around the base and tugging it gently away from his body. He nuzzled his way from mid-shaft to the head and Heero held his breath, hardly daring to move in fear that he would somehow scare Duo away and the most he'd feel would be that hot exhalation and those closed lips against his cock. His baka reached the very tip and ope—

The curtains suddenly jerked open. Heero was confronted with an enraged Wufei in a yellow sundress. "If I can't get any, _you_ don't get any, either, Yuy. Maxwell, get out of here or you're wearing the dress."

"Wuffers," his baka whined, dropping both the skirt and Heero's penis. "I was having fun!"

"In case it has slipped your feeble mind, Maxwell, Oz would very much like to capture you and give you a uterus. You do not have time for this!"

"Yeeech." The not-princess leaped away from Heero. "We need to hurry, man, Wu-baby is right about this one." He squeezed past Wufei and disappeared into the store.

Wufei smirked at the tent Heero's erection made in his skirt. "Not bad, Yuy."

.

_That evening...._

.

His baka was chattering a mile a minute, but Heero's mind was working on more important things. He was currently engaged in a lengthy and furious debate with himself about outright asking if his penis met the not-princess's specifications. He _had_ examined it rather minutely this afternoon so he should have been able to form an accurate opinion on Heero's hungness status. However, if he did ask about his hungness status, then it was possible that he would have inappropriately sized equipment and he would not have the opportunity to somehow correct it. He had several emails saved that promised that he could increase the size of his penis if it proved unsatisfactory. The question that he was debating was whether or not the not-princess would give him adequate time to make use of these resources should his penis be too small. He should have asked Zechs while he had the chance.

Thinking of Zechs led to another quandary. He had now witness sex twice and on both occasions there were three persons involved. Of course, the first time, he had to leave before Zechs and the stableboys could begin copulation. The second time, there was no mistaking that Khushrenada, Wufei, and Zechs were copulating. Zechs had dismounted and settled on the bed to enjoy the entire episode with his erection still wet from Wufei's body. Wufei hadn't been quite so accommodating. Heero had to physically remove Wufei from Treize and Wufei had been vocally less than pleased about it. Heero had been forced to calm Wufei with a nerve pinch. Treize required a bit more subduing and it hadn't bothered Heero in the least to punch the man in the jaw. De-cuteizing his butt, just in case, had been something of a pleasure.

None of this changed the simple fact that three people were apparently required to actually consummate the sexual act. Additional proof came in the form of the aborted attempts to copulate that Trowa and Quatre had engaged in on the couch in the entertainment room. They had only two people involved and hadn't managed to actually get the deed done.

Heero found this confusing, of course, because all of the things he'd read about sexual intercourse indicated that only two sets of genitalia were actually required. Certainly that's all that appeared necessary in Baron J's romance novels. Of course, those incidences applied to copulation between a male and a female. Sex between males was decidedly different in nature by simple necessity. In any case, it was always best to have all contingencies covered when making a plan.

He eyed Quatre and Trowa riding side by side and quietly talking. While, of the others, he would prefer Trowa simply for the man's uncommon good sense, Trowa was a part of an established couple. Quatre was equally unsuitable for the same reason. That left Wufei. While Wufei was the most likely participant as the third for Quatre and Trowa's sexual intercourse sessions, he didn't appear to be emotionally involved. Quite frankly, Heero couldn't picture either Quatre or Trowa squished between Treize and Zechs without the other.

Heero narrowed his eyes and watched Wufei primly ride his gundam toward the school. Wufei was not without his good points. He was strong, loyal, and intelligent. Moreover, he could be counted on in a fight and had superior tactical skills. Perhaps they outweighed the drawbacks of his excitability and seeming dislike of Duo. While not as suitable as Trowa for the position as their third, Wufei would still work better than anyone else on the planet that he could think of. Except, perhaps, for Zechs.

Zechs was a definite possibility. He certainly knew what he was doing in the bedroom. Despite Duo's acquired knowledge from various pornographic sources, he was still inexperienced. Heero knew very little about sex. Zechs was not only knowledgeable, he was more inclined to be selfless in deed than Wufei had shown himself. Heero would like very much if their third would have a strong interest into taking care of Duo. He knew Zechs would, but he didn't have the same reassurance of precedence with Wufei. Wufei did make a habit of throwing the not-princess into the moat.

"Was their something you required, Yuy?" Wufei was glaring at him in consternation.

Heero glared back. "Not at the moment."

"Then cease staring. It is disconcerting."

"He can't help it, Wuffie, you're such a pretty girl."

"Baka," Heero said, "I wasn't thinking that."

Wufei bristled. "You think me ugly, Yuy?"

"I was thinking about Zechs," Heero snapped. Wufei immediately flushed and stared off in the other direction.

"Zechs?" Duo sounded put out.

"Hn."

Duo sniffed. "Fine, you bastard. Think about your precious _Zechs_ all you want. I have better company to keep!" Duo twitched the reins and sent Deathscythe to walk on the other side of Shenlong.

"Get your perverted beast away from my Shenlong!" Wufei snapped.

Neither Deathscythe nor Shenlong appeared be concerned about Wufei's delicate sensibilities. In fact, they wandered along, side by side, as moon faced as Trowa and Quatre were with each other.

"I can't help it if they like each other, man. Jeez, just because you're a total prude virgin doesn't mean everything else has to be. Besides, wouldn't it be cool to have a little baby gundam? We could call it Deathlong or Shenscythe! You could be a grandpa." To Heero's ears, the baka's chattered sounded forced.

Wufei took the opportunity to slip into a justice rant.

Heero frowned and watched the two ride side by side. While he might prefer Zechs to be their third, Duo obviously preferred Wufei. It would make things simpler, of course, since Wufei was available and Zechs was not. Wufei's prudish mannerisms would have the additional bonus of making Heero appear a lot less inexperienced than Zechs' knowledge would. He did not, under any circumstances, want Duo to find him lacking as a sex partner. Watching Duo grin at Wufei, Heero decided that he would tell his baka that his choice of their third partner was fine with him. He would also ask what was wrong with Zechs so he did not make the same mistakes that Zechs did. He didn't want to find himself on his baka's bad side. It would make having sex difficult.

.

_Later that evening than late that evening...._

.

They left their gundams in the care of the stable hands and made their way to the registrar's office. It was really late at night, when most schools refused to inprocess new students, but this school made an exception for these five. Duo and Quatre were placed in a room together in the boys wing. Wufei, Heero, and Trowa were likewise able to share a room. Heero's hacking skills made the school incredibly accommodating. Naturally, the person in charge of room assignments had no difficulties displacing students who were already in those rooms on the say so of the computer. After all, the computer's word was sacred and moving a student out of the way was much simpler than changing room assignments.

As soon as they'd all put away their belongings and played rock, paper, scissors for the beds, Wufei immediately went into the adjoining bathroom and cleaned his face of make-up. He peered at his teeth, then glared at Heero and slammed the door shut. A moment later, the sounds of a bath being run reached Heero's ears. Trowa had simply stripped and climbed into his own bed. Within moments, he was asleep.

Heero waited for a few minutes, debating whether or not to prepare for bed or turn on the laptop. He heard the squeak of flesh on porcelain as Wufei climbed into the water, then chose to get ready for bed. He sat on his mattress and watched Trowa's steady breathing for a moment. He estimated that he had at least fifteen minutes before Wufei could reasonably finish his ablutions and decided that it was enough time.

Settling into a comfortable position, he cracked open his locked briefcase and pulled out his treasure almost reverently. There, in his naked, bound glory, was Duo. With a shaking hand, Heero thumbed through the pages of SHIT Monthly to find his favorite pictures of his baka. He vastly preferred pictures that had the baka by himself or with a single person that he could pretend was himself.

Duo looked incredibly good naked.


	16. Invasion of the Yuri Snatchers

Heero shifted his weight again. Duo cast him a sidelong glance, wondering what the hell was wrong now. He stood, demurely, in his schoolgirl uniform, tugging at the hem of the skirt. Wu-Wu was a lost cause. He stood hip-shot on the other side of Heero, arms crossed, and glaring at the window. Everything about him bellowed "I can kick your ass!" Trowa was the only one that pulled the look off with any panache, but that wasn't surprising. Trowa was the only one of the three with any of the sense God gave a seam squirrel. He stood, hands clasped in front of him, leaning ever so slightly toward Quatre in a bemused I'm-his-don't-touch posture.

"Class, we have five new students this morning, let's make them feel welcome! Tell us a little bit about yourselves."

"Ohayo, minna-san!" Duo said brightly, waving. "Hajimemashite! Duane Maxwellhouse toiimasu! Douzoyoroshiku! Okagesamade genkidesu! Bokuga kirainamushiha haedogakiburedesu!"

The girls smiled at him.

"Heeroina Yau," Heero mumbled. He raised his eyes long enough to glare at the classroom in general before staring at the floor again. "I don't like celery, either."

Almost as one, all of the boys swooned at how sweet and beautiful Heeroina was. And she appeared to be single! Duo noted that they were staring at Heero's legs and didn't like it.

"Chang Wufei," Wufei snorted. He didn't stop glaring at the window. Heero glared at Wu-man, but Wu ignored him.

"Quatre Rabera. I'm pleased to be here."

"Trowa."

The girls were whispering about the new gorgeous boy and his gorgeous hair, the adorably gorgeous couple that Trowa and her boyfriend Quatre made, how sweetly shy the gorgeous Heeroina was, and how the gorgeous Chang chick appeared to have a stick up her ass. The boys were alternately lamenting Trowa's—holy cow, look at those legs—taken status, drooling over Heeroina, and wondering if the Chang chick, who was obviously a lesbian, did threesomes with her girlfriend, who (they hoped) was Heeroina. Oh yeah, you could hear all the blood heading south and the level of teenaged hormones rising at the mere thought of the sweetly shy Heeroina and the bull dyke Chang ripping at each other's clothes in the full, sweaty, heat of beer-commercial-esque, hot lesbian passion.

Duo noted the looks of interest Heero was getting and didn't like it. Heero was _his_ Knight in Shiny Armor, goddammit, and if anyone else even _thought_ they could come between them, well, they were gonna find out how wrong they were at the hands of Shinigami. Narrowing his eyes and grinning evilly at the worst of the droolers, he snatched Heero's hand and held tight. Heero looked up at him, startled, but said nothing.

A collective gasp of dismay went up from the various males in the classroom. No! It wasn't possible! Heeroina just _had_ to be Chang's lesbian lover! She just _had_ to!

"There are some seats in back." The teacher smiled obliviously when the five settled into their seats.

A girl leaned over and smiled at Heero. "Hi, I'm Reiko Tempestuous Muerte. Is Duane your girlfriend?"

"Negative. Duo is my baka."

"Baka means completely gorgeous, fabulously sexy, and unutterably intelligent guy." Duo smiled. "Heero _ina_ is my girlfriend.

"Damn!" a boy to Duo's left lamented.

"It means idiot," Reiko Tempestuous Muerte said with a giggle. "You two are _sooo_ cute together! I just know it's true love!"

Heero snorted in disgust. "True love is a romantic notion."

Duo's smile broadened. "My Hee-chan doesn't do romantic notions."

Heero glowered. "Do _not_ call me _Hee-chan_."

"You two girls are so kawaii!" Reiko Tempestuous Muerte pronounced, stars in her eyes.

"He's a she," a boy crowed triumphantly. Of course, the teacher neglected to notice. "No guy looks like that."

The boys in the class turned to inspect those gorgeous, amethyst, jeweled orbs that were Duo's eyes, the sensual, yet sweetly innocent curve that was Duo's heart-shaped face, and the thick, silky, bavarian chestnut mass tumbling gently down in its braid that was Duo's glorious tresses.

"Bull dyke!" another boy took up the cry. "Three hot new lesbian chicks! We're so lucky! Yuri 4 eva!"

Wufei, who had been studiously attempting to take notes on basic kanji (which he already knew, he _is_ Chinese after all), glowered at the boy.

"Lesbian threesome," another boy moaned, his eyes sliding shut. Pictures of the delectable and obviously in denial about her gender Duo, the sweet Heeroina, and that hot dyke Chang all tumbling together naked and sweaty steam-rolled through his brain.

"This is ridiculous!" Wufei yelled. "Injustice!"

Quatre and Trowa looked at each other for a moment before Quatre shrugged and passed a thousand yen note over. "I _told_ you," Trowa gloated.

Wufei spared them an irritated glare.

"I thought he could hold out for an entire day," Quatre whined. "Wufei, where's your stamina?"

Wufei stood up and pointed to the boy next to him. "This, this _cretin_ thinks that I am a _bull dyke_! I do not even know what a bull dyke is!"

"A manly woman," Trowa said drily. "You should be happy, everyone is aware of your masculinity."

Wufei turned purple. "I am not a manly woman! I am a womanly woman!" He yanked on his skirt. "I am in a damned _dress_!"

"And you're goddamned sexy, toOWCH! Goddammit Heero! I'm gonna friggin' kill you if you don't lay offa the braid!"

" _Miss_ Maxwellhouse!" the teacher shouted. "Enough!"

"Score!" one of the boys yelled. "I _knew_ she was a girl!"

"I am trying to conduct class!"

"You will _not_ test out your theories on Chang's homosexuality on Chang!" Heero roared. "Quit looking up Chang's skirt!"

Wufei turned a funny shade of red and sat down.

"That's _it_! Everyone has detention!"

One of the boys whipped a cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. "Houston, this is Goseki. We have lesbians. I repeat, we have lesbians."

"They're _my_ lesbians. Hands off, boys and girls," Quatre interjected into the sudden, shocked and awed quiet.

Heero suddenly smiled. "You will make an acceptable third when we have sex, Winner."

"Bisexual lesbians!" The boys had a new war cry.

.

_Later, at detention...._

.

Heero sat stoically and very carefully wrote the katakana alphabet with computer like precision. Across the table, Duo leaned back in his chair and glared at Heero with laser like precision. Heero did not consider himself a coward for avoiding that gaze and pretending he was elsewhere, just intelligent.

"We haven't even had sex yet and you're already trying to set up a threesome with Quatre? I'm gonna kick your goddamned ass for that, Yuy," Duo hissed. "Besides, I thought you were all hot for _Zechsy_."

Heero looked up, brow furrowed. Did the baka have some other preference in bedmate? "You would prefer someone else for the third?"

"I don't want a third at all! At least not yet."

Heero blinked and considered that. "I am not particular. I will permit you the choice of third. We will have sex once you've chosen the third and you've made the vow to forsake all others."

"Oh for the love of Mike!"

Heero glared. "Who is this Mike and where can I find him?"

"It's an expression!" Duo bellowed. "There is no Mike!"

One of the boys sitting kitty-corner timidly raised his hand. "Uh, I'm Mike."

Heero pulled the .357 King Cobra from its special place in the small of his back and pointed it at the self-professed Mike. He thumbed back the hammer with his favorite sort of smile. "Stand up and face the door."

Mike eeped and did exactly as he was told.

"Yuy!" Duo managed to yelp around his gaping mouth.

"Is his butt cute?"

"Is his butt _what_?"

Heero glowered at his baka, irritated. "It's a simple question, baka. Is his butt cute?"

"Are you gonna shoot him if I say yes?"

"No. I will simply de-cuteize his butt."

"No, Yuy, his butt is _not_ cute. It's an ugly butt and I can't stand to look at it."

Wufei looked up from his book and blinked at the butt in question. "I think it's cute, as far as butts on males go."

"Bisexual bull dykes are so sexy," one of the boys at Mike's table whispered to another.

"You should probably de-cuteize it, Yuy, just to be on the safe side."

Heero grunted in the affirmative and tucked the .357 back into its holster.

"Wu _fei_!" Duo yelled. "Don't encourage him."

"But I'm bored."

Heero stood up, cracking his knuckles.

"Hey! Wait," Mike squealed. "Girls hate my butt! They think it's ugly. Only bull dykes like Chang would like my butt!"

"A dyke is a protective structure designed to hold back water. A bull is an adult, uncastrated male of any number of even-toed ungulate species." Heero stepped around the table. "Neither of these things would logically have a preference in the cuteness of butts."

"Heero, Duo doesn't like his butt. What difference does it make if anyone else likes it?" Quatre interjected.

Heero paused, eyes narrowing, as he considered this. His not-princess was glowering at him and didn't seem particularly interested in this Mike's butt. "My not-princess has used the word 'love' in conjunction with this Mike person. It is best not to take chances."

Trowa kicked Duo under the table.

"Ow! What?"

He jerked his bang in Mike's direction.

"Gah, okay, okay. Mike, no offense, buddy, but I really don't like you. I don't think you're sexy and I would never ever want to have sex with you or kiss you."

Heero was still glowering.

"Hope you don't mind if I never talk to you again."

Heero smiled. No one found it particularly reassuring, though Mike seemed to wilt in relief.

"At least not until I beat the shit out of Heero, here, for being a complete dick for thinking he can be a jealous, possessive asshole!"

Wufei smirked. "Is the wooing not going well, Yuy?"

.

_After detention...._

.

Heero slowly made his way across the campus, beneath the sakura trees with their delicately falling blossoms. Duo was still angry with him and had refused to walk with him to dinner, claiming some insignificant errand. Quatre and Trowa had disappeared into a closet. He assumed that Wufei would eventually join them since he'd seen Quatre's hand sliding up Trowa's skirt. He glared at the fragrant blossoms at his feet. He should have disappeared into a closet with Duo before Quatre and Trowa had gotten a hold of Wufei. He could be having sex _right now_.

One moment he was designing a quick mission to get Duo into a closet and the next he was shoved, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, into a tree. He blinked up in surprise at the hulking boy that had pinned him. It was one of the larger boys from class.

"You're going to be my girlfriend, baby," the boy, Fabio Fujiwara, said huskily, rubbing the front of his body against Heero's.

Heero stared up at him, wide-eyed, and felt his knees go weak with terror. "No!"

Fabio pressed his lips to Heero's, mashing them against his teeth and bruising them until they were swollen. The boy's tongue slithered out and swiped against Heero's lips, attempting to worm its way inside. Crystalline tears of pain and humiliation leaked from the beautiful innocent prussian blue eyes of Heero Yuy and traced their way down his pinkened cheeks.

Heero squeezed his eyes shut and beat his fists helplessly against Fabio's steely arms, whimpering. He twisted his head, "No, please, I belong to Duo!"

"That long-haired freak? Not anymore, sweet thing. You're _my_ girlfriend now. _I'm_ going to take you to the Spring Dance." Fabio buried his face in the crook of Heero's throat, sucking at the tender flesh.

"No! Please, no! You're hurting me!"

"God, you're so hot, baby. I can't wait to fuck you." Fabio thrust himself against Heero's pelvis.

Heero waited.

Fabio humped.

Heero frowned.

Fabio bit his shoulder.

Heero craned his neck to look past his attacker.

Fabio's hand slid under his skirt to squeeze his butt.

Heero checked his watch. Where in the hell was that damned baka?

What to do? The bully had done everything required by the mission parameters outlined in the simulated missions he'd found online. Heero had likewise followed his role in the mission. The only thing missing was his baka. He checked while the Fabio palmed his other butt cheek. No, there was no sign of the baka. He was uncertain as to what he should do now. Should he continue to wait for the baka? Should he—

Fabio's right hand tracked its way around from his butt cheek, along his hip, and then froze. He glared at Fabio as the boy leaned away and gently patted fingertips all around the length of his left hand .50 AE.

"Uh, I gotta go. I think my mom's calling meeeeep!" Fabio's eyes widened and traveled down the length of the right hand .50 AE from where the barrel rested against his philtrum to where it ended in Heero's fist.

"Negative. The mission requires that you continue to molest me to the point of actual damage until my baka happens to come looking for me. He will then beat the shit out of you, I believe the expression is, so that he can profess his undying love for me. Do you understand?"

"Uh, uh, uh." Fabio couldn't seem to break eye contact with the cocked hammer.

"You will complete your role in this mission or I will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Uh, uh, uh." Fabio blinked at the terribly shiny length of the slide and the fact that the hammer on the gun was still cocked.

"Good. You will now continue to molest me until the not-princess stops you. Since you seem to have forgotten your mission: you may not touch my chest or my genitals, you may not remove any of my clothing, and you may not stick your tongue in my mouth. You have bad breath." Heero doubled the wattage of the death glare. "Accomplish the mission or I will ki—"

"Yuy! What in the hell are you doing?" Wufei shouted. "Unhand that boy this instant!"

"Negative, Chang. I am wooing my not-princess. I suggest that you do not interfere with my mission."

Wufei stopped, his skirt swirling about his thighs, and blinked in utter confusion. "You're wooing Duo by threatening to kill someone? The idiot isn't even here!"

Heero spared Wufei a glare. "He stopped molesting me."

" _Pardon_?"

"Where is the baka? He's late."

"He's buying out the canteen. He's discovered they carry Mountain Dew. The idiot will impossible to live with now."

"Um, I _really_ gotta go," Fabio whimpered.

"Negative," Heero snapped, pushing with the .50 AE.

Fabio closed his eyes and whined in his throat. Wufei had backed a couple of steps and had covered his mouth with both hands. He appeared to be having convulsions of some sort.

"You will complete your part of the mission!" Heero roared. Was the boy a complete idiot? "If you move from this spot, I will kill you!"

"Oh God," Fabio whined. Something warm and very wet hit Heero's foot.

Wufei landed, butt first, on the ground in a fit of hysteria.

The sickly sweet aroma of ammonia and sugar pierced his nostrils. Heero considered shooting the boy on general principle right that moment, but the boy was required in order to fulfill this mission. "Kuso!"

Wufei had his arms banded around his mid-section and had curled around them in an unbridled fit of laughter.

Heero turned a fully loaded death glare on Fabio. He nudged the bully with the barrel again. "We will return to this location at 1400 tomorrow for this mission. If you do not show up and attack me, I will find you and I will kill you. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Go!"

Fabio Fujiwara squealed and took off running in the direction of the dormitories.

"Your rapist peed on your foot, Yuy!" Wufei howled.

Heero glared at Wufei and wondered how much trouble he would get into with his not-princess if he shot him. He decided to shoot Wufei later, after he'd gotten the forsaking all others promise from his baka. For the moment, he settled for dismissive condescension. "Quatre appeared to want to have sex with Trowa. Don't you have to go help them?"

Wufei quit laughing and his mouth dropped open. It was quite satisfying, Heero decided as he stomped off to clean up.

.

_Later that evening...._

.

Trowa and Wufei were sitting on Trowa's bed, engaged in an intense whispered conversation. Well, Wufei was whispering intensely, Trowa was shaking his head intensely. Heero paused to glare at them for good measure every once in a while, but spent the bulk of his attention on the L2 Whore Takes on the Cell Block pictorial that he had safely tucked inside his Differential Calculus Theory III notebook.

He jerked the left hand .50 AE from its spot beneath his pillow when the windows rattled. Trowa jumped up and opened them, spilling Quatre and the not-princess into the room.

"God, that's a long fucking way to creep five stories up." Duo glowered at Wufei. "What was so goddamned important?"

Seconds later, the four of them were an intensely whispering, huddling mess on Trowa's bed. They occasionally shot looks his way with the odd exclamation of surprise or denial.

Heero decided that he didn't like it, but couldn't find the interest to get worked up about it since he had a full page spread of Duo, chains trailing from the heavy, iron cuffs on his ankles and wrists, kneeling on a stone floor with his upturned rump to the camera. His hands were on his butt cheeks—his _very_ cute butt cheeks—pulling them apart to completely expose himself to Heero's _very_ interested view. The chained Duo was looking over his shoulder, licking his lips, with his braid spilling down his side and trailing across the floor. Heero had just about decided to adjourn to the latrine to interactively study his Differential Calculus Theory in private when Wufei and Duo forcibly stood Trowa up and propelled him across the room with a hard shove between the shoulder blades.

Trowa tripped over the hem of his nightgown and smacked, nose first, into picture Duo's spread butt cheeks.

Heero jerked it away and slapped his notebook shut before anyone else could see it. Since he knew that his not-princess would be upset if he shot Trowa, even in a harmless spot, he briefly entertained the notion of blinding him. Surely no one would notice.

"Do it," Duo hissed from across the room. Heero blinked, startled. Oh, he was speaking to Trowa.

Wufei crossed his arms over his carnation sprigged nightgown and death glared at Trowa's bang.

Quatre offered a sweet, encouraging smile. "Do it or you're cut off for a week."

Trowa blinked at them, then turned to blink at Heero. "Er, Heero. We were wondering if you had any questions about sex. What are you looking at?"

Heero cuddled the notebook to his chest, his glare openly defying Trowa to say a word. "Differential Calculus Theory."

"I, uh, see." Trowa suddenly smiled. "I have that class, too. You'll have to let me borrow your notes."

Heero's instant Glare 'o Death threatened to singe Trowa's bang before he'd do any such thing.

Quatre frowned in adorable confusion. "Trowa, you don't have Dif—"

Trowa cleared his throat, loudly. "About sex. Wufei thinks you're a little confused."

"Enough beating around the bush, Barton. He thinks you two need my help to have sex." Wufei glowered at Heero over the insult to his masculinity.

Heero nodded curtly. "From my observations, male to male sex requires three people."

Duo hooted with laughter until Quatre elbowed him in the gut.

"Actually, it doesn't. Only two people are required to have sex, no matter if they're male or female. Sex can happen between three people. It can be fun, but three people aren't necessary. When Quatre and I have sex, we usually prefer it to be just the two of us."

Heero's brow furrowed. "When Chang was—"

"Yuy!" Wufei barked, "You needn't bring that up!"

"Bring what up, Wuffles?" Duo sounded far too interested in Wufei's sex life for Heero's liking.

Trowa smirked, but only Heero could see it. "I think we do need to bring it up, Wufei. It appears to be the source of Heero's confusion."

Wufei snorted. "It is unnecessary, Barton. Simply explain the mechanics of sex and then we can all go to bed."

Duo perked up. "Great idea, Wu!"

"Of course it is, I had it."

"Though, I never took you for the orgy type."

Wufei sniffed in disdain. "You shouldn't judge a book by—what? Maxwell! Not _that_ kind of bed, pervert!"

Trowa sighed. "Wufei is correct. I will explain things to Heero and then we have to, er, study Differential Calculus Theory. We have a quiz tomorrow. You two go on back to your room."

"C'mon, Tro-babe, I wanna know what Wuff-Wuff did that confused Heero about sex."

"Duo," Trowa said.

Duo sighed, looking crestfallen, but went to the window without further protest. Heero made a mental note to find out how Trowa accomplished this feat. The not-princess made a few farewell noises and admonished Heero not to jack off too much because he had plans for him later, then bounced through the window. Quatre tossed the room a sheepish smile, tossed Trowa a kiss, and admonished Heero to listen carefully to what Trowa had to say.

"Wufei, you should probably go take a bath," Trowa said.

"Are you insane, Barton? I just had a shower." Wufei seated himself in his bed with all of the pomp and circumstance of an emperor settling himself into his bower full of concubines for the night.

Trowa gritted his teeth. "Unless Wufei would like to explain exactly how Wufei confused Heero about sex, Wufei would like to take a nice, long bath."

"I believe I shall have a bath," Wufei said haughtily, rising to his feet and authoritatively striding to the en suite bathroom. Heero _always_ managed to hack them into dorms with en suite bathrooms.

"Tomorrow, we're going to head into town and I'm going to get you some how-to books on gay sex. I know several good titles from reputable people that will cover everything you need to know and then some. Will that help?"

"That would be very helpful, Barton." Heero didn't particularly like the way Trowa was eyeing the Differential Calculus Theory notebook in his arms.

"Heero, is _that_ what I thought it was?" Trowa pointed to the Differential Calculus Theory. "Can I see it again?"

"Barton," he growled.

Trowa was unimpressed. "Please?"

Heero frowned. "On three conditions."

Barton arched his only visible eyebrow.

"One, you tell no one about this. Especially not the baka. Two, you don't let the baka see your butt. It's cute and the baka would be angry if I de-cutized it. Three, you do not allow the baka to witness your flexibility."

Trowa blinked his eye a few times, then nodded. "All right, Heero."

Shyly, Heero lowered the notebook to his lap and opened it up to the start of the L2 Whore Takes on the Cell Block pictorial. Beside him, Trowa sucked in an awed breath, then let it out with a soft whistle. Heero felt his chest swell with an odd sort of pride in his not-princess that made him want to simultaneously break out all of the other SHIT issues and kill Trowa on the spot for seeing _his_ not-princess in such a position.

.

_Outside the dorms...._

.

Reiko Tempestuous Muerte slipped through the shadows beneath the sakura trees and quietly made her way to the window she'd left open. She paused to look up at Duo's window. "It's almost time, Princess...."


	17. The Joy of Gay Sex Fully Revised and Expanded, 134th Ed.

The first thing Heero noticed when he stepped into Differential Calculus Theory III with his notebook—which held the Shy Virginal Gundam Pilot Gets Broken In issue—clutched to his chest was that Trowa wasn't in Differential Calculus Theory III. There wasn't a quiz, either. Frowning a little bit, Heero settled into his usual corner seat and flipped open to his favorite shy virgin pic. Duo was shirtless with his braid pulled over his shoulder to pool in his lap. He was staring at the camera with big, dewy eyes that begged Heero to come and protect him. Heero dutifully took notes with a teeny tine part of his attention and dutifully memorized the vulnerable curves on his baka's face with the rest of it.

He stopped off at his room long enough to secure his magazine, check his make up, and pull on three pairs of sexy girl's underpants that he'd taken from Wufei's drawer. It was the best compromise he could manage since he knew that Fabio Fujiwara would be reaching under his skirt to grab his butt and that, if all of the simulated missions he read were correct, the not-princess would drag him off to a private location to kiss and grab his butt. He would not have time between the two butt grabbings to change from gundanium briefs to sexy underwear. Perhaps he should simply make the time? No, he was a soldier, he could handle Fujiwara's idiotic fumblings. He checked the time, 1320. Good. He had enough time to implement his mission plan so that yesterday's failure would not be repeated. First, he went off in search of Quatre.

It took some fast grunting on his part, and a Glare o' Death set to kill, but he managed to convince Quatre that he really wanted to have a romantic interlude with his baka at the big sakura tree in the quad at precisely 1405 hours and not one minute before. He ordered Quatre to stress to Duo that he would not have kisses if he showed up any earlier. He also asked that Quatre "go all Zero" on his baka if he decided not to carry his weight in this mission. A no show was unacceptable. Satisfied that he'd gotten his point across with eighteen minutes to spare, he left the gaping blonde and went to the home economics classroom to find Wufei.

Wufei was sitting in the center of a gaggle of giggling girls. He was glaring daggers at the teacher and sharpening a pair of knitting needles to a fine point on a whetstone. Pink and blue skeins of fuzzy yarn littered the table in front of him. Wufei was apparently trying his hardest to learn to knit. While he applauded such dedication to academics, he needed Wufei for more important things. Heero stepped into the classroom and sent the girls running with a single Glare o' Death set to stun. The teacher, who resembled a large mouth bass at the moment, blinked. Heero turned the glare on her. "Chang has a sucking chest wound. He must go to the nurse."

The teacher added narrowed eyes to the large mouth bass look. "Miss Chang is perfectly fine! She will _not_ get out of learning to knit!"

Heero whipped out the .357 magnum Colt King Cobra and pressed it to Wufei's ribs. Girls squealed, the teacher eeped, and Wufei turned sheet white. "I _said_ ," he ground out at menacingly as he knew how, "that Wufei has a sucking chest wound. He must go to the nurse. Do _not_ force me to shoot him to prove it."

The large mouth bass had become a kissing gourami. "Yes! Of course! Hurry and get her to the nurse, we wouldn't want her to die!"

Satisfied, he holstered the King Cobra, grabbed Wufei's wrist, and hauled the boy behind him. He wanted to arrive five minutes early to cover any last minute issues that might have cropped up.

"Yuy!" Wufei roared, once they stopped by the tree. "What is the meaning of this injustice?!"

"I do not see Fujiwara," Heero said, glowering at the tree. "This is unacceptable."

"Who?"

"Chang, you will wait here and instruct the baka not to go anywhere until I return with Fujiwara."

"The guy who peed on your foot?" Wufei shook his head. "I will never understand you, Yuy."

Heero glared at Wufei. "Your understanding is not required. You are my back up for this mission. Winner will make sure that the baka is here at 1405 hours. You will remain at this location and keep the baka here to wait for my signal. Then you will send the baka in to rescue me from Fujiwara."

"What is the signal?" a wide-eyed Wufei asked faintly.

Heero considered the issue for a moment. "I will fire my right hand .50AE into the air. It is unlikely that anyone else in the vicinity has one, so the sound will not be mistaken."

"Oooooookay."

He twisted his fingers in Wufei's silk blouse and jerked him forward, onto his toes. "Do not fail in this mission, Chang."

"Maxwell has well and truly driven you insane."

Heero stuck his face into Wufei's and growled.

"Fine, I'll do as you _ask_ , Yuy, if only because this entire mission of yours is amusing."

He briefly considered pummeling Wufei for finding any sort of amusement at what he suspected was his expense, but he didn't have the time. He mentally penciled the activity in for later. "Good."

It took a good forty minutes to track down the missing rapist. He found the boy hiding in a locker in the gym. The boy's locker room gave him pause as the scents of dubious male hygiene washed over him. It was rather like the men's room where he first kissed his baka, with the addition of the smell of musty sweat socks. If Fabio thought such things would deter him, he was about to learn otherwise.

He calmly ripped the steel door from the locker, though simply opening it might have been more expedient. Fabio squealed and ducked down. "I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

"I am unable to terminate you now. I do not have time to find a replacement rapist for the mission, so you will have to do. You _will_ come with me to the sakura trees. You _will_ attack me. You _will_ allow my baka to rescue me. You _will not_ harm a single hair on his head when he beats the shit out of you. You _will_ put up enough of a fight to make it a real rescue. You _will not_ mark or hurt him in any way. If you fail to follow instructions, I will kill you. If you fail to follow instructions regarding my baka, I will kill you slowly. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

"Good. My baka should already be there, so we'll have to hurry." He motioned with the barrel of his right hand .50 AE. "Move it."

His not-princess hadn't arrived at the appointed location by the time he returned with his rapist. Trowa was there, laconically leaning against a tree and balancing a throwing knife, point down, on the tip of his finger to amuse himself. Wufei was crouched beside him, looking incredibly bored.

"Where is the baka?"

Trowa smirked. "Quatre sent me. Duo can't make it, I'm sorry to say, Heero."

Heero glowered and his rapist quailed. "I'm going to kill that baka!"

The smirk deepened. "It's really not his fault. He has detention until he's fifty."

"Detention? What?"

"He got a little bit angry when the chemistry teacher demanded that he return to the dorm and put on appropriate attire for a young lady of his stature. After he took off his pants and beat the teacher with his boxers, he used the hydrochloric acid from his food digestion experiment to rig a bomb that took out half the science lab. This is where he started screaming about Shinigami and revenge. Apparently, the chemistry teacher was a penny pinching bastard because he used low grade stuff. Anyway, it took Quatre going all Zero on his ass to get his pants back on and once the fire department arrived, they gave him detention forever. The principal gave him time off the end of his sentence for being such a cute girl. They had to sedate him immediately after that. You'll have to see if he'll let you rescue him later so you can do your kissing stuff." Trowa smirked again. "I recommend you start with his cute little butt. I'd tell you how nice it looks in person, but you'd kill me."

Wufei snorted in amusement. Huffing a little, Heero hoped he would not have to scrap the mission all together. Confessions of undying true love weren't quite a vow to forsake all others, but this love business had preceded the vow in the films and literature on such goings on that he'd been exposed to.

Trowa put his knife away. "Let's go get changed. I promised to buy you some manuals."

.

_At the bookstore...._

.

It was truly amazing if you stop to think about it, but they found a large, franchised bookstore complete with coffee shop in the village. It was right next to the blacksmith. Quatre and Wufei had decided to join them in their foray into the wilds of non-fiction. Quatre took one look at Heero's fierce ninmu ryoukai face and beelined for the music books. Heero marched directly to the nearest employee to demand the location of gay sex books before Trowa could explain a little something about tact, privacy, and delicate sensibilities.

The stammering and entirely too nervous employee managed to get lost among the shelves twice. The pimple-faced kid squeaked apologies for everything from the lighting down to the direction the pile of the carpet lay.

Trowa sighed. "Heero, quit glaring, you're scaring him and we'll never get there."

Heero nodded once then smiled. The employee turned pale white. His face rather resembled one of those Death by Pepperoni pizzas that Duo had unsuccessfully attempted to subject him to.

"That's not better," Trowa muttered.

Eventually the pimple plagued employee found the correct section, lodged incomprehensibly enough between poetry and hot rods, squealed something about hope and helpfulness, then made a break for the bathroom. He glared at the retreating form, irritated. What if he had more questions? Trowa just snorted, moved past the complete John Donne collection in leather, tripped over a fellow shopper who had been crouched on the floor, pressed up against the shelves, and knocked them both over.

Heero turned his glare on the indignant squeak, then bent over and picked up the books that Wufei had dropped when Trowa ran over him. Heero scratched his head. "Practical Domination for Owners of the Executive Bottom: A Guide for Dealing with the Power Hungry Sammy."

Wufei snarled, slapping at the hand that Trowa offered to help him up with. "It is none of your concern, Yuy!"

"Topping from the Top: A Practicum for Keeping Your Sammy on the Bottom." Heero furrowed his brow. "Who's Sammy?"

Trowa smirked.

Wufei turned three shades of red, spluttered, then fell back onto a quietly hissed justice rant. "It's injustice, Yuy! You simply do _not_ ask ridiculous questions when you have no need to know the answer! Injustice, I tell you!"

"Smart-Assed Masochist," Trowa said with a smirk that infuriated Wufei. "Though it refers to all submissives that try to top from the bottom these days."

Wufei yanked the books out of Heero's hands. "I have important research to accomplish for a, a term paper in er, abnormal psychology! I will thank you to keep out of my affairs!"

"So," Trowa purred, "does this have anything to do with the reason why Heero thought gay men required three people to have sex? C'mon, Wufei, you can tell _me_."

"Injustice!" Wufei shouted, before stomping off toward the horticulture section.

Trowa's grin flashed teeth. If he had been Duo, he would have been on the floor, clutching his sides, and belly laughing loudly enough to be heard in the parking lot.

Heero frowned, watching Wufei stick his nose in the air and disappear between shelves. "Why is he angry? It's expected to purchase books at a bookstore."

Trowa pulled the heavy and nicely illustrated Joy of Gay Sex Fully Revised and Expanded 134th Edition from the shelf and dropped it into Heero's arms. "I believe he's embarrassed."

Heero's frown deepened. "Embarrassed? Did he fail his mission?"

Trowa paused, looking Heero from the corner of his eyes. "Is that what embarrasses you?"

"Failing a mission is shameful."

"Ah." Trowa dragged a finger along the spines of a few books, then pulled out The Ins and Outs of Gay Sex: A Medical Handbook for Men 20th Edition. He thumbed through it, before adding it to the Joy of Gay Sex in Heero's arms.

"He seemed rather embarrassed when I pulled him off of Khushrenada when they were copulating. He was upset about it."

Trowa dropped Gay Sex: A Manual for Men Who Love Men and blinked at Heero. Wondering if he'd somehow crossed over into the Twilight Zone, he bent and picked up the book.

Heero glowered at The Ins and Outs of Gay Sex. "I don't know why he would be. Zechs wasn't upset when he ceased copulating with Chang."

Trowa dropped Gay Sex: A Manual for Men Who Love Men again, but Heero was prepared and caught it this time.

"Of course, Zechs dismounted voluntarily and it did take me five minutes to pull Chang off of Khushrenada." Heero glared in the direction of the horticulture section. "He wouldn't let go."

Trowa couldn't think of a single damned thing to say to that. He nodded jerkily, trying to picture a screaming and cursing Wufei, in the midst of fucking Treize Khushrenada, fighting off Heero and his ninmu ryoukai face. He couldn't quite manage it. Instead, he grabbed the last copy of the Gay Kama Sutra and ushered Heero to the checkout counter. Heero came to a sudden stop at a table topped with paperback romances. One of the bodice rippers featured a woman in a white dress bent at an impossible angle, unless she had no spine to speak of, over a mostly naked, muscular man's arm. Heero noted with some annoyance that none of the men on these covers resembled himself. "I wish to purchase a book on marrying."

Trowa blinked, then shrugged. It was a guarantee that Duo wouldn't like it, just as it was a guarantee that it would be, to say the least, vastly entertaining. He trailed in Heero's wake as the man in spandex attacked another employee, this one female with braces, and hounded her into taking him to the bridal section. There, he sent her scurrying off with a glare and began the slow, arduous process of checking the table of contents, index, and sample chapter of every book on weddings available. Trowa went to find Quatre and a lockable bathroom stall.

Three hours and four orgasms later, what can he say, he had amazing recovery time, Trowa wandered back to find Heero on one of the last three books on the shelf. Quatre, blushing, sweaty, and with his buttons mismatched, peered around Trowa's arm at the huge mess Heero had made. A huddle of employees stood a safe distance away with a table of guns and warfare non-fiction between themselves and the insane man buying books on gay sex and wedding dresses. Finally, Heero stood, glared at his audience, then lifted his stack of books and marched to the checkout.

They met Wufei outside in the outdoor patio. He was sipping on tea and reading his book. A peek at the book jacket stated that it was about the proper care of roses, but the diagram on the page was of a naked, handcuffed man, kneeling. Noting their approach, Wufei glared and slapped the book shut. "It has taken you quite long enough."

Trowa merely arched an eyebrow.

Wufei slid the book into the sack from the bookstore and collected his other packages, one from a well-known pet store, one from a home improvement superstore, and the last from a local harness and tack shop. He glowered at them. "Merely gifts for my, er, gundam."

Trowa gave a slight grin, but said nothing.

.

_Back in the dorm..._

.

Wufei had dumped his purchases into his knapsack and buried two of his books beneath his mattress with a glare of warning at Trowa. Heero had opened up the Joy of Gay Sex and glowered his way through the acknowledgments. Satisfied that Trowa had gotten the "don't look or die" message, Wufei had laid out his most formal white suit, waltzed into the en suite bathroom and locked himself in. That had been an hour ago.

"Barton. Explain this." Heero held up the Joy of Gay Sex and pointed to a picture of a tongue slithering between a pair of butt cheeks.

"Rimming?"

"I do not understand why a man would want to put his tongue on another man's defecation equipment."

Trowa blinked, _defe_ -, then shook his head. "You have several manuals."

Heero gave him a do-it-or-I'll-tell-Quatre-to-cut-you-off glare. "Explain, Barton."

He blinked again and tried to decide the validity of the threat. No, he knew Quatre would be put out with him if he didn't help Heero and then Quatre wouldn't put out for him. "It feels good."

"It's unsanitary!"

Trowa shook his head. "Not if you clean up first."

Heero looked as thoroughly disgusted as one can look without expression.

"Have you ever touched your anus?"

"I practice proper hygiene."

"I'll take that as a no." Trowa crossed the room and dropped onto Heero's bed.

"I touch it every day to wash it. That is not no."

"You've never touched it in a sexual way."

Heero brought back the disgusted look.

"Your anus has a lot of sensitive nerves. They feel good when stimulated. That's why most people do anything sexual, because it feels good."

"Show me."

Trowa crossed his arms and glared. "I only have sex with Quatre."

Heero glared back. "How am I supp—"

Humming to himself, Wufei stepped from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, steam saturated with a spicy citrus scent billowed into the room.

"Chang."

Wufei froze in the act of reaching for his white silk boxers and looked over at Heero.

"Show me how rimming feels," Heero ordered.

.

_Thirty minutes later...._

.

"He doesn't have a concussion," Heero decided, checking the bump on Wufei's head once again.

Trowa sighed. "Heero, you can't just ask things like that. Particularly not from Wufei. He's repressed."

"Quit speaking as if I am not here!" Wufei snarled. "I am _not_ repressed!"

Heero glared at Wufei. "How am I supposed to gather all of the required intelligence if I am not permitted to ask questions of the people who have the information?"

"Sex is a private subject," Trowa inserted himself between Heero and Wufei before it could get bloody. Lion taming was baby-giggles safe comparatively. Quatre would be pleased that he'd avoided bloodshed. He'd have to play up the danger side, do a little quivering, and add in a touch of big, frightened eyes. Even miffed, Quatre shouldn't be able to resist comforting him. "It's not proper to just ask people to show you how it's done."

Heero snorted. "Chang has had sex. He is my ally. Why shouldn't I ask him to show me?"

Trowa refrained from grinding his teeth. He was a patient man, really. "Duo would be angry if anyone else touched you sexually."

Heero looked momentarily nervous and terrified. "Understood."

Wufei muttered something unprintable in Mandarin, then began dressing himself.

Heero returned to his book and eyed the section with ambiguous trepidation. "Barton, have you done this rimming?"

Trowa tried to decide if it was really worth answering these questions. He pictured Quatre's pert little butt, bent over with his cute little gate to paradise winking a fond hello. "Yes."

Wufei squeaked and rushed into his clothes.

"Did you rim or were you rimmed?"

Trowa shrugged and watched, with a great deal of amusement, as Wufei turned several shades of red and tried to pretend he wasn't listening. "Both. It's enjoyable."

Heero consulted the book for a few moments while Trowa resumed his seat on Heero's bed. "What is the best way to do it?"

Wufei had tied his sash a little too tightly since his eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

Trowa smirked. "Have you kissed Duo? Tongue in the mouth, hands on the butt, check to see if he has tonsils kissing?"

Heero nodded curtly. "Affirmative."

"Just do that to his anus."

The ninmu ryoukai expression briefly crossed Heero's face.

Wufei sighed and opened the drawer on his bedside table. He removed his small collection of sporks and began to examine with the same care and attention he generally reserved for his katana. "Barton, I don't know which is worse, the fact that Yuy can ask these questions without expression of the fact that you can answer them without vocal inflection."

"It's simple, Wufei. I think of paper clips."

Wufei blinked. "Paper clips?"

Trowa nodded.

Wufei blinked again, then looked thoughtful.

Heero suddenly glared. "It is too unsanitary to stick my tongue inside of his anus. No matter how often he scrubs, he will not be able to clean inside."

Wufei grimaced and pointedly tested the heft and straightness of a spork. Nodding in satisfaction, he tucked it carefully into a pocket.

Annoyed, Trowa helped himself to the Joy of Gay Sex and flipped through it until he found the section on enemas. He dropped it into Heero's lap, pointed to the start of the section, and began chanting a litany. Helping Heero will get me a reward fuck from Quatre. It was working. Barely.

Looking smug, Wufei shouldered his knapsack. "I am going to the library to study."

Heero grunted, but didn't look up from his research.

Trowa decided not to point out that it was after hours and that Wufei had just spent an hour in personal grooming and put on his best clothes to go study. Wufei had a date, though he couldn't figure out the spork thing, and that meant that Wufei would be gone for a while. All he had to do was convince Heero to go visit Duo's room to practice kissing and then get Quatre here for his reward. He didn't expect any difficulties with either portion of the plan. Simple.

"Paper clips, Barton?"

Trowa smirked again. "It'll be amusing to watch him try to think about paper clips when he's in the middle of a justice rant. His brain will throw its transmission all over his mental highway."

"You're mean."

"Thank you."

With a grunt, Heero returned to the book. Trowa stifled a sigh and sat on his bed with a his literature homework. Just as he'd gotten into the story, Heero looked up, confusion all over his face. "But Duo doesn't appear to have problems with constipation."

Maybe getting his reward fuck wouldn't be quite so simple.

.

_Sometime way before oh-dark-thirty...._

.

Heero slipped in through the window, stomped over to Quatre's bunk, and kicked it.

"Wha—?" Quatre jerked upright, the gun in his fist pointing at Heero.

"Barton wouldn't show me how to do oral sex with Duo. He said he couldn't explain it either." Heero glared. "Do something."

Duo abruptly sat up in his own bed.

Quatre shook his head and blinked. "What?"

"Barton wouldn't show me how to do oral sex."

Quatre closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead with the back of the hand that still held his gun. "You actually asked Trowa for oral sex?"

Heero glared harder.

"You asked _my_ Trowa for oral sex?"

"I would have asked Chang, but he went to go study."

Quatre sighed and somehow managed to pry his fingers off of his gun. "This isn't working, Heero."

Heero crossed his arms over his chest. "Chang is a diligent student."

"That's not what I meant. Look, I'll go back to your room, you stay here with Duo. I'll figure it out in the morning." Quatre climbed out of bed and pulled on his robe. "Please don't ask _my_ Trowa to help you with sex again. If you have any more questions, ask Duo."

Heero blinked. "But Duo has no sexual experience and Barton does."

"Duo is _your_ boyfriend. Trowa is _mine_."

"Shit, Q, don't go all Zero now. I'll help Spandex Boy out, okay? You just go make lovies with Forelock now. He's probably all spazzed out so bad that he's got himself a mohawk. It's okay, I promise," Duo soothed. "No one touched Trowa but you. He's okay and untouched and just fine. All you have to do is go see your guy. He's probably got himself all worked up into a tizzy. Well, a tizzy that has no expression and doesn't require movement, but a Trowa-tizzy. Your man needs you, Q-babe." Duo smiled gently in the moonlight. Heero opened his mental thesaurus and chose lovely, fey, and jealousy.

"Just put a leash on him, Duo," Quatre growled, opening the door. "Putting the moves on _my_ Trowa. The nerve."

The door slammed shut.

"Are you _nuts_? You asked _Quatre's_ man for a blow job?"

"Rimming, too."

"Yuy! Are you _insane_?" Duo leaped to his feet and yanked on his braid. "Q-man will do some seriously deranged shit to you if you ever touch his man."

Heero looked at his feet and told himself that he was only doing so to make sure they were still there. He wasn't blushing, either. It was just warm in the room. "I wanted to make sure that I know what to do to make it good for you."

Duo sat down in a rush. "Aww, shit, man." That sounded more like vulnerable awe than disgust. Heero peeked through his bangs to see Duo chewing on his bottom lip and wringing his braid in between his hands. "Do you remember when we kissed back at Peacemillion?"

He definitely was _not_ blushing. The thermostat was broken. He made a mental note to check into fixing it the next day. "Yes."

"You didn't know what to do then and you made it very, _very_ good for me." Duo smiled wistfully. "Sex isn't that complicated, Heero. You just do what feels good. You'll know if it makes me feel good."

He furrowed his brow. "How?"

"You just will."

Heero shook his head. "I don't understand."

Duo's lip nibbling picked up speed. After a moment, he let go of his braid and leaned back, hands braced on the bed behind him. "Come here, Heero."

Slowly, a bit unsure of what was expected, he made his way to the bedside.

"I want to show you. Will that be okay?"

Heero nodded so hard, his bangs flopped into his eyes.

Duo's smile brightened into something incredibly sexy. "First things first. Take your clothes off."

He nearly ripped his tank top yanking it over his head and didn't quite recall touching his spandex when he peeled the shorts off. In the back of his mind, something was protesting that this was all wrong.

Duo's quiet laugh echoed through the room. "That was enthusiastic."

Heero paused, frowning.

"No, that's not bad. Enthusiasm is good." Duo leaned forward to wriggle his tongue in Heero's belly button. "I like enthusiasm."

"Are we having sex?"

"Sssh, lay down with me." Duo stretched, arching his upper torso, and pulled his tee shirt off.

"But aren't we supposed to lie on opposite bunks?"

Duo stopped, the shirt dangling from his fingers. "What?"

"I'm supposed to lie there, pretending to sleep while I watch you through half-lidded eyes because I can't deal with my emotions and I can't be a perfect soldier if I give into emotional weakness and love you. And you're supposed to lie here, in boxers, thinking about me and jacking yourself off because you're afraid I'll hate you if you let me know that you're in love with me. And I don't get to jack off at all, even though you get to come and I lay there and watch you and think about how sexy you are, because perfect soldiers don't get to have sex and sex leads to long and painful retraining with Dr. J anyway."

Duo blinked. "That's it, you're officially cut off."

No! He hadn't had sex yet, how could Duo cut him off now! Heero felt himself beginning to panic and couldn't quite stop it.

"Idiot. From those stupid simulated fangirl missions of yours. No more! Fangirls are evil! I'll never get a proper shag out of you if you keep trying to do whatever the fangirl horde writes, Heero!"

He'd said that out loud? "We can have sex, then?"

"Yes!"

"Really?"

"Just take off my boxers and shut up."

"Ninmu ryoukai."

Duo grinned. "God, I love it when you talk dirty to me, stud."

Heero grinned back, just a little, and pressed his fingers to Duo's waist. His baka's skin was hot enough to melt steel and harden flesh. He forgot how to breath when Duo moaned softly. He curled his fingers into the waist band of the elegant black silk boxers with smiley faces, leering chile peppers doing the limbo across the fly, a phrase that proclaimed the wearer a "cereal killer", another phrase that said "one tequila, two tequila, three tequila floor", and rows of chibi Deathscythes doing the Macarena. Heero decided that he would never get enough of the feel of Duo's flesh against his own.

"Take 'em off for me, 'Ro. You gotta make me naked if you want to have sex with me."

Shivering at the absolutely delicious thought of Duo naked, he tugged the boxers off and threw them over his shoulder. With his braid spilling across the black satin sheets and his gorgeous, deep, sexy, soft, jeweled amethyst orbs smiling a sultry come and hither the fuck out of me, baby, Duo was the picture of utter beauty. The slivered moonlight kissed his creamy, perfect skin that flowed like silk over the lithe, yet strong boy's muscles that were the epitome of beauty that was sexual that was Duo Maxwell.

Heero didn't really notice. His cock stood up and screamed, "I wanna fuck you like an animal!" and nothing else penetrated his lust fogged brain. Except penetrate. Ooh yeah, penetrate is good. Not just good. _Gooood_ good. He direly hoped that he hadn't just said that out loud because then he'd sound like a moron and it wasn't likely that his baka would let a moron penetrate him.

"Lay down next to me, lover."

He was there before the sentence was over. Everything he'd read in the past few hours, everything Barton had told him fled. All he could recall was that Duo was naked. In bed. And naked. Next to him. Naked!

"Now touch me."

His hand quivered, reaching forward. "Where?"

"Anywhere." The long, breathy sound of his naked baka's voice jolted him all the way to his cock. Slowly, he moved his hand until his fingers brushed his naked baka's hip. Duo exhaled in a rush.

A moment later, his naked baka's fingers touched his chest, petting slowly over his pectoral to stop over his nipple. He felt a groan welling up from his groin. One finger rested on his suddenly erect nipple, as if pressing a button. Hesitantly, he trailed his own fingers along his naked baka's belly to his naked baka's chest. He found a nipple there, already standing into his touch, and tweaked it. His naked baka gasped and arched into his fingers. He liked that. A lot. The fingers on his own chest moved, teasing his flesh, then returning to his nipple for a sharper pinch.

"Do you like that, 'Ro?"

"Baka...."

"Do you want me to suck on you?"

"Yes, please," he heard himself whine.

Duo chuckled and leaned down. His fingers slid along his naked baka's chest, up across his collarbones and into his hair. Duo sucked on him, as promised. He took Heero's nipple into his mouth and laved it with his tongue. It was hot and it was wet and it was so good. The only thing his brain was doing was gasping and moaning.

"Do you like that?"

The vibrations of Duo's voice against his erect flesh sent a shiver directly to his groin. "Yes," he hissed.

"Try doing it to me, see if I like it."

He firmly rolled his naked baka onto his back and leaned over him. He paused long enough to press a soft kiss to his baka's mouth before nuzzling down his chest to find his nipple. Duo's chest quivered under his lips. He slowly licked the small nub, tasting the texture before worrying it gently with his teeth. Duo gasped and arched into him. He could feel his naked baka's erection tracing a wet line against his thigh.

"You like that," he said, amazed.

Duo smiled at him. "See? It's not that hard, 'Ro."

Heero smirked and thrust himself against Duo's leg. "Yes it is."

Duo laughed. "Touch me some more."

He let his hands wander everywhere, mapping the valleys and hills of Duo's ribs, the cliffs of Duo's pecs, the plateaus of Duo's belly, the ridges of Duo's pelvis. He humped and couldn't stop it. It seemed to be involuntary, like breathing or blood filtration in his kidneys.

"Duo?"

"Mmm? Ooh, a little to left, baby."

A little to the left would put him at Duo's cock.

"Could you check?"

Duo nudged his hips over, trying to bring his erection into contact with Heero's hand. "Eh?"

"My hungness status." The icy blast of fear threatened his hard penis. He frowned and concentrated on the feel of Duo's skin under his fingers and scent of Duo's hair in his nostrils.

"Touch my cock."

"Did you hear me?"

"Nnng, my cock, Heero. C'mon, touch me. I wanna cum."

Heero frowned and pulled his hands away.

"Awww, what'd you do that for? Don'tcha wanna fuck me?"

Irritation was starting to make a solid dent in the haze of his sexual excitement. "Baka. I cannot have sex with you if my penis isn't within specifications. Since you haven't informed me what the required specs are, you'll have to check."

Duo pouted. It was adorable. "You just want me to give you a handjob."

Heero sighed. "If you touch mine, I'll touch yours. Though I cannot promise I'll let go if I'm not adequately hung."

"Shit, you're fucking obsessed, you know that?"

Nevertheless, Heero was pleased to feel his— _naked!!_ —baka's hand moving purposefully down his belly to curl around his cock. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and clamped down as hard as he could to keep from ejaculating immediately. Once he got his breathing under control, he sought out his baka's erection and palmed it. It was hot, and long. It was surprisingly dry considering the wet trails it had been leaving across his leg earlier. He rubbed his thumb over the flared tip in circles, feeling the slick moisture, and heard his baka cry out sharply. It sounded like pleasure and set his nerves screaming to stick his cock someplace, preferably inside of his baka.

"D-Duo?" He clenched his teeth and reached for control. It wasn't easy with those finger playing over his shaft. "Am I within specs?"

"Yeah, your little soldier is perfect. Better than perfect."

The hand pulled away and his penis mourned the loss. He heard something plastic clicking then a liquid splort that vaguely resembled a rude bodily noise that Wufei always blamed someone else for. Confused, he stilled his own movements. A few moments later, the hand was back, this time slippery with some sort of wetness.

"Lube, here, try it."

The hand twisted and pulled, rose and fell, jerked and pushed. It was better than anything he'd ever felt in his entire life. It was better than a ninmu kanryu. It was better than a thousand ninmu kanryu's. Hastily, he squirted the lube into his own hand and grabbed at Duo's hard cock. Duo whined in the back of his throat and Heero just had to chase it with his tongue.

His hips writhed and thrust, working himself in his baka's fist. He returned the favor until his baka was gasping and squirming against him. The blood pounded in his ears, sounding like the distant roaring of Vernier engines. He could barely think of anything but his baka's hand, his baka's body, and the taste of the inside of his baka's mouth. He rolled, pressing firmly to Duo's body, holding him down and somewhat stilling his hips. He was still thrusting against Duo's hand, but Duo couldn't do likewise. He had to hold still and from the gasping and panting, it was a sensation that really worked for Duo. He slid his tongue back into his not-princess's mouth, lapping at his teeth. His baka was crying almost rhythmically into him and he was getting a little drunk on his baka's lust.

The hand on his cock shifted its grip, putting the pads of its fingers firmly onto the underside of the shaft. The movement went from sinuous to purposeful. The strokes were powerful and long, traveling from base to tip with a deft twist and a pressure that was almost too tight. His own hand mimicked the movements, only with less assurance since he could no longer feel anything but his erection and that wonderful hand. His baka lit a fuse that coiled through his balls with that insistent motion, a fuse that burned its way around until it set his cock off like a roman candle. He dimly heard his baka echoing his roar and felt the heat and stickiness coating his hand and belly.

"Baka," he groaned, falling limply onto the quivering, panting body beneath him.


	18. Gimme Some Injustice, You Sexy Stud-Beast

Heero couldn't get the glare off of his face. He knew it was inappropriate, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Apparently, weddings were supposed to be _happy_ events of some sort, but all he could see were illustrations of coyly smiling females in dresses. This nonsense didn't apply since his bride-to-be was male. He slapped shut _Weddings for Dummies, Assorted Idiots & Grooms _and picked up _The Knot's Guide to Weddings,_ which was conveniently jacketed by Wufei's _The Art of the Japanese Sword._ Wufei hadn't yet noticed that his sword book was wearing _The Knot's Guide to Weddings_ jacket. Of course, Wufei had yet to return from studying at the library last night so he likely hadn't noticed Heero's appropriation of his personal items for use in tactical misdirection.

The section on wedding vows caught his eye almost immediately. Several of them directly mentioned forsaking all others. There were variations on that theme, involving things that he liked, such as "keep yourself only unto him", though he would change the vow to unto Heero to cover all bases. He liked that. Forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto Heero Yuy, pilot 01, until death do you part. No, no, death was too soon. Forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto Heero Yuy, pilot 01, forever. And ever. The only downside was that every choice of wedding vow mentioned the word love. While he would prefer to hear his baka promise to love him forever and ever, he couldn't, in good conscience, do the—

"...Miss Yau?"

Heero glared at the teacher.

"The answer?"

He glared harder.

She attempted to look stern. "Miss Yau."

The answer? There was only one reasonable answer. "My baka had better forsake all others or I'll break his neck."

The teacher blinked. Then blinked again. She squinted at Heero's glare, then turned to the student sitting next to him. "Mr. Strother? Why is a split infinitive considered bad grammar?"

Heero turned back to the wedding book.

Love? What is love? The Princess Relena's Art of Courtly Love business had quite a bit to say about this _love_. "Love is an inborn suffering proceeding from the sight and immoderate thought upon the beauty of the other sex." No, this definitely did _not_ apply. Heero was not particularly fond of the other sex. There were a few, such as Noin who could fight like hell, but other than that, he held these crying, overly emotional, bishounen obsessed creatures under a great deal of suspicion. Baron J said that they weren't to be trusted, these _females_ ; they were flighty, undependable, and unreasonably finicky. Noin said that this was because Baron J couldn't get laid in a whorehouse with this week's winning powerball lottery ticket taped to his forehead. From what Heero had seen of the Horde and the Princess Relena, he was more inclined to side with Baron J. Perhaps Heero should suggest that Baron J enter a whorehouse with liquid funds, rather than a lottery ticket. Whores undoubtedly preferred payment in cash.

Inborn suffering? That was rather confusing. From the romances that he'd been recently subjected to, Heero had been under the impression that love was something that caused its participants to behave like idiots. While it was quite all right for his baka to behave like an idiot, he was certainly _not_ permitted to have inborn suffering or perhaps this immoderate thought, whatever that was. Anyone or anything that made his baka have inborn suffering would have to answer to him and one or both of his .50 AEs and several fully loaded clips of ammo. Maybe a beam cannon while he was at it. And a small, thermonuclear detonation. There would be _no_ inborn suffering for his baka. Once he figured out what this immoderate thought was, he would decide if it was all right for his baka to experience or not.

Of course, the source of this information was the Princess Relena. She couldn't really be considered reliable. She'd been wrong about several things, the largest of which was the gender of her sibling. Perhaps he ought to verify this love thing with something more informative than the dictionary.

He frowned and slammed the book shut. Love was a romantic notion. He was a soldier. He did _not_ do romantic notions. He planned on using his baka prudently as a soldier as well, since he had obvious talent in demolitions, so his baka didn't do romantic notions either. At least he wouldn't once they married and he had extracted the "I will obey and forsake all others and keep myself only unto Heero Yuy, pilot 01, forever and ever" vows from his baka.

Though, he really shouldn't leave love out of the wedding vows since they appeared in every one he'd seen so far. Most of what he'd read had indicated he could write his own version of these vows, so he would simply change "promise to love" to something more reasonable. Perhaps "love as appropriate for whatever mission is current". Yes, he liked that and it was sufficiently close to the traditional vow that even his baka would recognize it.

Satisfied with his new plan, Heero abruptly smiled at the teacher. For once, someone actually smiled back at him.

.

_Later, on the way to detention...._

.

"Detention is so fucking stupid. You know they get their panties in a bunch if I talk? It's like they made it a felony or something? C'mon, do _I_ look like _I_ could _ever_ commit a _felony_?" Duo blinked huge, purple eyes at him and he found it a bit hard to concentrate.

"You committed a felony to get detention, baka."

Duo glared at him. "Ha! Mr. Nye should get his ass in detention forever! Using low grade shit like that is a frickin' felony. He probably gets his shit from Acme."

Heero frowned. "Acme? I will check for future reference as a supplier and submit my recommendations to Baron J."

"You know, Acme, where Wile E. Coyote is always buying the stuff that blows up in his face instead of catching the road runner? Where the hell have you been, under a rock? Looney Tunes has been out for hundreds of years, ya know. Everyone watches antique cartoons these days."

"Who is Wile E. Coyote? Why would he want to catch a road runner?"

His baka whacked him gently on the head with a knuckle. "Hello, Yuy, anyone home, Yuy? It's a _cartoon_."

He knew what a cartoon was; he wasn't stupid. Of course, his not-princess was adorable when he got frustrated, so Heero stared at him blankly.

"Aargh!"

He found himself smiling at the flailing arms, wildly swinging braid, and the exaggerated "why me?" face. For the second time, someone actually smiled back. That girl. It wasn't his baka, though, so he didn't particularly care. "Baka." He poked Duo in the ribs to get his attention. It also made his not-princess giggle, but he firmly told himself that wasn't why he chose to do it. "Can I rescue you from detention?"

Duo smiled. "That would be great! Are you gonna tell the teacher demon that I've got a sucking chest wound, too? I would _kill_ to see the look on a teacher demon's face when you whip out that," Duo blushed, "gun of yours."

That brought to mind the candlelit room with a mostly naked not-princess and the warmth of gun oil and the friction of the slide rubbing through his hands. After last night, the incident took on an entirely new meaning. One he'd very much like to try with a completely naked not-princess. "I would rather _you_ whipped out my gun," he said.

"Hee-chan, are you flirting with me?"

Flirting? If that's whatever it was that he'd done to make his baka dimple up with a sweet smile, then he planned on doing it a lot. He let the stupid nickname pass and nodded. "Is it working?"

"Wanna play hooky with me?"

Reiko Tempestuous Muerte looked startled. "Hooky? You can't!"

Hooky? Hooky! Soldiers did _not_ play hooky. AWOL went entirely against everything inside of him. He shuddered to think of the very notion of the merest idea thinking about the possibility of perhaps, just maybe catching a taxi to cross his mind.

The not-princess licked his lips and made eye contact with the front of Heero's skirt.

"Yes. I will play hooky with you."

His baka grinned. He flicked open his mental thesaurus and chose beautiful, sexy, and erectile. The grin widened and his baka brushed up against him. Hot, moist breath washed over his neck and nuzzled his ear. "I'll take that as a compliment, lover, but you might want to hold your books down low in front."

Puzzled, he looked down. So did Reiko Tempestuous Muerte. She gasped. "Oh gods! You're a _boy_!"

He glared at the horizontal plane that had suddenly popped up in his skirt. "This is your fault, baka."

The baka didn't seem to realize that being at fault was a bad thing. "Glad to hear it, Heero."

"Oh, Duo, you poor thing," Reiko Tempestuous Muerte mourned. "Locked in forbidden, taboo love. So sweet, yet so doomed by the tide of public opinion rising against you."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Duo glared at her.

She clasped her hands together and held them to her chest. "The love that dare not speak its name; the love that flies in the face of every socially acceptable custom there is; the love that must stand in the face of derision." She looked around, then hissed, " _Heterosexual_ love."

"Are you insane?" Heero thought that was a perfectly reasonable inquiry, considering.

She put her hands on her hips. "I would ask the same thing of you, dress boy. There's no point in trying to hide your het love if you're going to wear a skirt and Duo is going to wear pants. You both should be in pants."

Heero frowned. "I wished to disguise my gender. It would be inappropriate to wear pants."

"Yeah, but boy-boy love is just so much sexier than girl-girl love!"

Duo grimaced. "Great, another fangirl. If you start trying to touch my hair, I'm going to strangle you."

She looked hurt. "Don't you recognize me, Duo?"

"No."

"You used to call me your little Sunshine."

"Sorry, no."

"After Solo died in our arms, and you called yourself Duo and I called myself Reiko for him. You were two and I was three."

"Reiko means child of grace," Heero said, "not three."

She ignored him. "We ran the streets for a while; I was your co-leader. Don't you remember?"

His baka was staring at the girl as if she were a polka dotted toad.

"Then the Alliance captured us, after I saved you from that pimp who was about to rape you and make you his prize whore. We were sent to Maxwell Church. Remember how we used to curl up on your bunk and just hold each other whenever one of the other gang was adopted? We promised that we'd always stay together and watch each other's back. Remember?"

"Have you thought about psychiatric help?"

"Oh, Duo! Don't you remember when we went and stole the mobile suit, after the rebels held the orphans hostage? We came back to find nearly everyone dead. Sister Helen died in your arms and Sister Bernstein died in mine. See, we have matching crosses. It was so awful, you almost killed yourself before I saved you and made you promise that you'd live, if only to watch over me. We ran the streets for a while after that, but it wasn't the same. You lived for revenge, so you hid aboard a Sweeper ship. You wanted me to stay safe, remember? So you found a family to take me in."

"I hear they're doing wonders with drug therapy for psychos."

She clenched her fists and looked at her feet for a moment. "What you didn't know was that the family was a front. I was taken in by a scientist. She was a protégé of Professor G's. Sensai R was a genius and G had been jealous of that, so he kicked her out. She trained me to be a gundam pilot. I thought you were safe with the Sweepers, until that fateful day."

His baka grabbed his hand and began to subtly manoeuver them away from her all the while nodding politely.

"You were fighting Oz in Deathscythe Hell, and you were about to self-destruct because there were just too many and you were almost out of power. You'd lost your thermal scythe and only had a few rounds of ammo left. I came in my gundam, Blackdeath Starshine, and saved you. Remember?" She sniffled and rubbed at her eye. "Oz captured you a few weeks later, while I was taking on Zechs over the Arctic Base. After I defeated him, and let him go in peace, he really is an honorable warrior, I came for you. I rescued you from that base in Tibet where they were gonna rape you and turn you into their little whore slave. It wasn't easy since Blackdeath Starshine was out of commission after the battle with Zechs."

"You battled _Zechs_?" Heero frowned and jerked Duo to a halt.

Reiko Tempestuous Muerte glared at him. So did Duo, presumably for ending their getaway. She took a step forward. "Of _course_ I did. He's the best Oz has to offer. I'm also Duo's long lost betrothed." She smiled at Duo. "Solo wanted us to get married, remember?"

Heero's trigger fingers twitched in tandem. "Negative. The baka marries no one but me."

The not-princess poked him in the belly to get his attention. He glowered. The baka didn't have to use his fist for it. "Heero, that," Duo pointed at Reiko Tempestuous Muerte, "is a fangirl or _worse_. Rescue me, goddammit."

"You will let me rescue you?"

"Yes! Now hurry the fuck up before I do it myself and go play hooky _without_ you!"

Reiko Tempestuous Muerte glared at them both. "No need, Duo. I can see that there's no talking to you while _he's_ around. I'll catch up to you later."

"Not if I see you coming," Duo said.

She looked back over her shoulder and sniffed haughtily. "You'll get yours, Duo Maxwell, or my name isn't Reiko Tempestuous Muerte. Er, or my name _is_ Reiko Tempestuous Muerte. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Duo blinked. Heero palmed the butts of his .50 AEs through his indecently and unrealistically short skirt. They both glared at her departing back. "That was straight freaky."

Straight freaky? Heero vaguely wondered if that was a euphemism for stupid non-sensical death threat.

"C'mon, Spandex Boy, rescue me from detention."

.

_Back at Heero's dorm room...._

.

"C'mon Heero!" Duo bellowed. "Before a friggin' teacher shows up and you gotta go and rescue me again."

Heero shot a glare at his closed door, shoved his gay sex manuals beneath his bed and covered them with Wufei's pillow for good measure. He smoothed his blankets one last time and bounced a fifty cent piece off of his precisely made bed. Quarters were for sissies. Satisfied that his area was as presentable as possible, he opened the door and let his baka in.

His baka stomped in and promptly dropped himself squarely in the center of Heero's ex-perfectly made bed. "Man, Heero, it's not like I've never been in here before or anything. And you flashed me your panties twice today so it's not like I haven't seen your skivvies, either."

Heero leveled his deadliest death glare at his not-princess. "I am unable to wear my shorts beneath this skirt."

"Easy, there, buddy. I was just saying that you don't have to break your back cleaning up the place for me."

Curiously enough, that statement was perfectly clear. Perhaps he was beginning to understand his baka a little bit better. His baka abruptly sprawled back on his bed, braid flailing about before landing with a soft thump to trail towards him in what he hoped was an open invitation. Should his ask first or should he just remove his clothing and jump on his baka? He eyed the long length of his not-princess's body and tried to recall what the sex manuals had said regarding initiating sexual encounters. His previous experience wasn't helpful since it had either come about accidentally or the not-princess had started it. Perhaps he should contrive to make something accidental? How would—

"What in the fuck is Wu Wu doing with a wedding book _and_ S & M books?"

—he best accomplish an accidental sexual encounter missio—wait one. _Wedding_?

Heero pasted the blankest expression he could onto his face. "I'm sure that I have no idea why Chang has a wedding book."

The not-princess sat up and eyed him suspiciously. "It is the Feimeister's wedding book, _isn't it_?"

Heero stared very hard at a point on the not-princess's forehead. "Of course."

Before he could intercept and redirect the not-princess's attention to something else, the not-princess had bounded past him and ripped the book from the shelf. He'd forgotten just how damned fast the baka really was when he set his mind to it.

"Yuy, why does Wuffy have a wedding book jacket on his sword book?"

"Misdirection."

"His or yours?"

Heero blinked. "His."

The baka's eyes narrowed. "Wufei, the manliest misogynist in existence, is hiding a manly sword book inside a girly book jacket that has a picture of an _onna_ in a lacy wedding gown?"

It did sound a little ridiculous when he put it that way. Still. Heero squared his shoulders and gave his baka a look that practically dared him to argue with such blunt fact as he was stating. "Yes?"

A pinched expression settled over Duo's face and his mouth dropped open. Before he could get a word out, the door opened and admitted Trowa followed closely by Quatre. The baka's outrage turned to amusement as Quatre put himself squarely between Heero and Trowa. Heero glared at them both. This put his plans regarding an accidental sexual encounter with his baka out.

Quatre glared back at him. "You stay away fro—you're staying with Duo, remember?"

Heero crossed his arms over his chest and deepened his glare, though he suspected his pink sailor style dress rendered it less than effective. At least Quatre hadn't mentioned the wedding book.

Trowa's eye narrowed on Duo's hands. "What are you doing with Heero's wedding book?"

"I knew it!" Duo shoved the book back into Wufei's shelf and rounded on Heero. "I thought we'd settled this, Yuy! I'm _not_ marrying you!"

"You were misinformed."

"I heard you call off the stupid mission, plain as fucking day!"

"Explain to me what a honeymoon is."

Duo glowered. "Oh no you don't. I'm not stupid, Yuy."

"You were misinformed, baka."

"Then _you_ explain it, if you're so fucking smart."

"Very well. A honeymoon is a short period after the marriage ceremony where the newly married couple goes to a vacation spot for one to four weeks in order to have sex."

Quatre frowned thoughtfully. "Heer—"

"So fucking what! Then they come home and their gonads dry up! It ain't fuckin happening to _me_!"

"It would simplify many things if we married." Heero calmly explained to himself that he was _not_ frustrated.

"It would simplify us right into celibacy! I don't _do_ celibacy!" Duo strangled the end of his braid between his hands.

Quatre's thoughtful frown deepened a little. "Du—"

"Of course you do celibacy!" Heero wasn't yelling; he had more control over himself than that. "You're a virgin!"

"And you have to scream it so every frickin' body knows now!"

"There is nothing wrong with being a virgin," Heero ground out between clenched teeth. Anyone who thought there was anything wrong with virginity was going to get pummeled and then shot. Not only was his baka a virgin, but so was he.

"Yes there is!" Duo roared. "I'm _still_ a virgin and that's a major fucking problem for me!"

"And you'd better stay that way until we have sex!" Heero roared back.

"Don't you go fucking telling me what to goddamned do, Yuy! You don't _own_ me!"

"I don't want to own you, I want to—"

A piercing whistled echoed through the room. "What is the meaning of this injustice?" It didn't quite have the same bite as it usually did since smug satiation replaced offended indignation in both Wufei's voice and body language.

Heero blinked and Duo openly gaped as Wufei glided across the room and sat on his bed. He grinned at all of them. Quatre and Trowa exchanged knowing glances.

"I think he's sick," Duo said quietly.

Trowa choked on a snort and bent over, coughing. Quatre turned an interesting shade of pink and patted Trowa on the back. Wufei attempted to frown reprovingly at Duo, but it came out wrong.

"God, he's really sick! C'mon, Tro-dude, quit hacking up a lung and go get a doctor. Wuffers is _smiling_!"

"I'm _fine_ , Maxwell," Wufei said with what could only be described as a dreamy sigh. "Most wonderfully, fabulously, blissfully, deliriously _fine_."

Trowa's coughing fit grew sufficiently violent to knock him to the floor. The coughing sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Duo managed to effectively combine shock, envy, and sorrow in one expression. "Oh. My. God. Chang Wufei got _laid_."

Wufei smirked.

"Wufei got laid!"

"You said as much, baka," Heero grumbled.

"Wufei has the personality of a fucking rat trap and he manages to get laid and I don't? It's your fault, Heero. You're my boyfriend, goddammit."

"Ninmu ryoukai." Yes, this was a mission he could get into.

"Wha—ahhh! Leggo the hair!"

Heero ignored the screeching and marched directly to Duo's dorm room. Duo jogged to keep up until he noticed their destination, then grabbed Heero's hand and tugged him along faster. Heero slammed the door shut behind them and locked it, watching Duo cross to the bed. He was shedding clothing along the way. Heero heartily approved of this. He verified the locks on the windows, shut the blinds, and started peeling out of his own clothing. He paused with a pair lace and ribbon panties stolen from Wufei's underwear drawer hanging out around his knees.

Duo had lost the hair band somewhere and turned toward Heero in a sensuous, seductive shimmy. Slowly, his long, sensuous fingers caressed their way through his hair, unraveling the braid that contained the glorious reddish golden chestnut with gorgeous shampoo-commercial highlights mass that was Duo's sensuous tresses. He shook his head, sending his luxurious locks cascading about his slender, pale, naked, lithe yet strong boy's body like a golden chestnut waterfall of silky soft tresses. His luminous orbs of jeweled amethystine cobalt gleamed in sensuous seductiveness. His hands reached back, separating the two side sections of his glorious reddish chestnut mass of silk and pulling them over his shoulders to cloak his chest and tickle at his knees.

"It's going to get tangled." Heero did not want to hear the baka complain loudly about tangles.

"If you hadn't've yanked my braid out to start with, we wouldn't be having the friggin' conversation, asshole. We need to have us a little talk called don't pull my hair!" He deftly added a twist or two to the front sections, then started weaving the glorious reddish go—his damned hair already into a tight braid. "It's not a leash, ya know. You jerk on it like that and you're gonna pull all my shit out and I'll be damned before you'll fuck it into a mess."

Heero felt a little queasy. "I didn't touch your shit."

"It's an expression, Yuy! Fuck, don't you watch MTV?"

"No." Had he been anyone else, he would have wilted in relief. As it was, he did accidentally rip some of the ribbon material on Wufei's panties. He hoped Wufei would not notice. He pulled off the skirt and ripped off the blouse, nearly strangling himself on the pink tie before he tore the material.

"Not in a hurry, are you, Hee-chan?" Duo had tied off his braid and stood, hands on hips, smirking.

"We will have sex now."

The smirk grew into a grin. "You betcher ass, babe."

"Do you have a coin?"

Duo blinked. "Coin?"

"Yes, jyan ken pon would be a more efficient means of determination."

Duo blinked again, his grin drooping a little under the pressure. "Determination?"

"Who will be on the top."

"Oh, that's easy. I will. Nothing says 'I'm all bottom' like spandex shorts."

Heero snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "I disagree. I believe that your ownership of a tiara makes you more of a bottom."

"Oh you did _not_ just go there!"

Heero grunted dismissively. "Jyan ken pon?"

Duo scratched his head and glowered. "That's about as romantic as a road accident."

"I do not like romantic."

Duo shrugged and stuck his closed fist out. "What the fuck ever. Let's get this over with."

Heero smirked and very carefully did not mention that he was the jyan ken pon champion of Baron J's holdings. "Jyan ken pon!"

Heero's eyes widened. He lost! He _lost_! Duo, the obviously paper sort of soldier, had thrown out rock. Heero's scissors were as crushed as he suddenly felt.

"Looks like you're catching, Hee-chan!"

"Best two out of three."

His not-princess just laughed. "Bottoms up, baby."

No....

"C'mon Hee-chan, you sexy stud-beast. Gimme some injustice."

"Injustice?"

"Y'know, kinky-hot man to man sex. What ol' Wuff the Magic Dragon was all about last night."

"Ninmu ryoukai." Heero swallowed the lump of trepidation in his throat, squared his shoulders, marched to the bed, and dropped to all fours, butt hiked up into the air.

"God," his not-princess whispered moments before placing his hands gently on the curve of Heero's ass. Heero decided that he liked the sensation and leaned into it. His baka groaned curse words he preferred not to think about, and trailed his fingers slowly along his flesh, leaving a wake of sensation behind. "Fuck, Heero, you have _the_ most perfect ass in existence."

Heero frowned. "Is that as good as a cute butt?"

"Better! So much fucking better."

He could feel his baka's hot breath washing over the flesh of his butt. He'd read about it, in the sex manuals, that men often paid oral homage to their partner's rumps. Would his baka show him what rimming was like? Duo's tongue touched the underside of his rear, where the curve of his left buttock met the top of his left thigh. He locked his throat, but a moan escaped anyway.

"Roll over," Duo growled, tugging at his hips.

He flipped onto his back, briefly disappointed. No rimming tutorial. And then his baka slithered his tongue over his belly button and the disappointment shattered like a glass dropped from the top of the highest turret. Grabbing his baka by the braid, he slowly reeled that beautiful face closer, until he could reach it with his lips. He pressed kisses to the forehead, then the nose, and then plunged his tongue deep into his baka's mouth. Duo groaned into him, pressing his entire body down onto Heero's. And, oh, it was _goood_.

His brain short-circuited and he thought that this was a good thing. His baka was sucking on his tongue again and it made his hips jerk upwards for some strange and exquisitely intense feeling reason. He did it again, and again. His penis was hard. No, his _cock_. His baka liked the word cock. He said it all the time. Heero suddenly fell in lust with the word himself. He was rubbing his _cock_ against his baka and nothing in the world felt better. Except for his baka's tongue worming its way into his mouth. He moaned and thrust again, rolling his hands down the smooth slope of his baka's back to grab those taut butt cheeks. He could feel the muscles rippling in his baka's butt as he slowly rocked himself against Heero's cock. And it was thrust. No, cock. No. It was good. Yes, good. It was so good that his cock was throbbing like it had an electrical charge running through it.

"Fuck, Heero, you're hot," Duo groaned, ripping his mouth away to nip at Heero's jaw.

Heero chased his baka's lips before sucking—sucking was _goood_ —his baka's tongue back into his mouth to nibble on. Duo groaned again, inarticulately, into his mouth. He rubbed himself against his baka. Not just his cock—cock! cock! cock!—but his whole body. His nipples felt incredibly heated when his baka's chest stimulated them. His hands clenched and his baka groaned again. He suddenly discovered that if he pulled on his baka's butt and thrust upward at the same time, the friction on his cock sent tracer rounds of pure fire rocketing from his groin, through his spine, and across his eyelids. He did it again and it was ah! His baka whimpered and ground himself down onto Heero. His baka was hot. Yes. Hot. So was his cock. And his baka's cock. And it was _goood_. And the rockets were blowing themselves up in his brain and it felt like nothing but his baka's cock. His baka shifted and suddenly they were fully cock to cock to thrust to oooh! He couldn't keep track of his baka's tongue because the only thing left in his entire existence was his cock and his baka's heat. And the rockets in his brain. They were exploding like hot, wet semen all over himself. There was a low, groaning growl somewhere and he couldn't get his tongue into his baka's mouth far enough. And he couldn't move, just jerk. And thrust. And cock. And and and black....

His internal clock put it at about three minutes 24 seconds later when he blinked his eyes open and tried to focus on a smirking not-princess inches from his face. He felt lassitude. And lethargic. His baka licked his lips for him and the smirk shifted to a soft smile. "How do you feel?"

Heero blinked. "Hot."

The smirk came back. "You're hot as fuck, baby, and that ain't no lie."

He decided that the smirk was cute and such cuteness required kissing. He lifted his head, though his brain was still reeling a little, and let his lips touch his baka's. They clung and shifted slowly, building another fire in the pit of his belly, right above the spot where his cock was throbbing in time to his pulse and right below the spot where he was all sticky and musky. His baka ground down again, rubbing his erection into the corner of Heero's thigh and pelvis. It felt good. Very good.

His baka took charge of their kiss, tangling his tongue with Heero's. He blinked at the glazed purple eyes and the reflexively jerking hips beneath his palms. He sucked on his baka's tongue and his baka moaned. It was a heady feeling, just as good as a successful ninmu kanryu, so he did it again. He wanted to hear more. He arched into his baka's thrusting and relished the whiny moan that accompanied the move. Were there more sounds? How many different moans of pleasure could his baka make?

"Ninmu ryoukai," he whispered against his baka's lips.

The purple eyes blinked slowly. "Huh?"

He ignored that and nipped at Duo's jaw just as Duo had done to him moments ago. His baka arched his neck and groaned. He tried sucking, but the bone of the mandible only invited his teeth back. He licked a little lower, running his tongue over his baka's jugular and decided that the breathy moan he got for that was the best so far. He tried sucking and got a low whine and a hard thrust of the hips.

The data from the sex manuals and the things that Zechs and Trowa had told him came flooding back now that his mind was clear enough to access the information. There were many things he wanted to try out on his baka and now was the perfect time to do so. At least while he was still able to concentrate. The idea that his baka could kill his concentration just by taking his clothes off didn't bother him nearly as much as it probably should have. Just to be safe, he decided not to include this tidbit of information in his report.

Sliding his tongue back into his baka's mouth to keep him from complaining about this top and bottom business, Heero rolled them over. There was no complaint, just a low moan as his body settled onto Duo's. He wriggled a little, to feel the friction of Duo against him. They both moaned. He liked that, but not as much as the breathy moan. Licking his baka's neck didn't get him another one, but rolling his tongue down to lave at his baka's nipples got him a long, drawn out ooooh that he felt all the way down in his groin. He tried sucking it, then sucking it while teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Duo whimpered and shoved his pelvis hard into Heero. More. He wanted more from his baka. He wanted....

He abruptly shifted down, sliding the length of his body against Duo's heated skin, until he was head to head with Duo's cock. Duo's hands threaded into Heero's hair and he moaned again. "God, Heero, yeah, do it."

Heero took a deep breath to steel himself and found it to be musky in a hot, masculine baka way. He liked it; it sent delicious shivers racing down his spine. Chasing the sensation, he nuzzled against the shaft and discovered that it felt surprisingly soft. The skin felt as delicate as tissue and moved freely over the hardness beneath. Was this what his baka had felt like in the dressing room, with Heero's cock running along his cheek?

"C'mon, Heero, suck me." Trust his baka to phrase a request as a whiny order.

He rubbed his lips back and forth along the underside of the shaft, enjoying the feel of skin to skin. His tongue slid out before he could give it any orders concerning this mission and the taste of his baka's _cock_ shot straight to his own. He licked again and savored it. His baka wiggled and thrust, his fingers clawing into Heero's hair. "Heero!"

Did his baka's cock taste the same all over? Ninmu ryoukai. He started logically, at the bottom, and covered every centimeter of skin before he ended up at the top. The shaft was pretty much the same from the base, where he had to pause to hack up a pubic hair that seemed determined to remain stuck to the back of his palate, to halfway up. From there, the taste was a little less salty until about an inch below the head where it sharpened along with the scent of seminal fluid. The head itself tasted quite different, richer and wet. Throughout his brief mission, his baka had relentlessly pulled his hair and demanded that Heero take it into his mouth. He considered telling his baka that doing so was against mission parameters, but he couldn't remove his tongue from his baka's flesh long enough to do it.

Zechs and the manuals had described an activity known as "deep throating". When he'd heard about it, he hadn't understood its appeal. Pushing a penis into his throat had seemed contradictory to good health practices. The esophagus had not been designed to accept large, solid objects. It had been designed for chewed, somewhat fluid things. After all, the gag reflex existed for a purpose. Now, with his lips wrapped around the head of Duo's cock and his tongue lapping up the dripping seminal fluid, Heero was suddenly taken with the idea of this deep throating activity. His baka's whimpering and moaning indicated that he would like it as well. Ninmu ryoukai. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his head down, letting his baka penetrate his mouth.

"Fuck, Heero! That's it, baby, suck me!"

He was displeased to find out that the was doing it wrong. He pulled his mouth off—his baka whined about that—and then started again, from the tip. This time, instead of simply pushing, he sucked. His cheeks faintly ached, his mandibular joints felt slightly sore, and the sucking action interfered with the length of time he would be able to hold his breath, but the reaction from his baka was well worth the discomfort. Duo moaned, gasped, and panted. His body writhed, shivered, and jerked. His hands rubbed, petted, and tugged.

When the tip of his baka's cock nudged at his tonsils, he stopped. While wrestling his need to gag into submission, he methodically sorted through all of the information he'd collected on the act of deep throating. It wasn't quite as simple as he'd thought it might be when reading mission parameters on the subject. His throat was not cooperating with his efforts and it was an irritant.

"God, Heero, move. Quit teasing!"

He hadn't completed his deep throating mission yet, so his baka would simply have to be patient. He would have explained the mission parameters his baka was required to follow, but he could not do so with the end of his baka's cock lodged up against his epiglottis. He grabbed his baka's hips firmly in his hands and forced him to hold perfectly still. He pushed downward a little, the thick head of his baka's cock shouldering his tonsils aside and sliding deeper. He pushed at it with his tongue, trying to change the angle a bit.

"Heero!" His baka jerked in his hands, shoving into his throat a little more, then jerking back. "Fuck! Heero! Please!"

Please? Heero pulled his mouth off his baka's cock and blinked. Please?

"Oh fuck, don't stop now. Please, Heero, suck me off. C'mon, don't leave me hanging." There was a definite pleading tone in the voice.

He liked it. A lot. He immediately discarded Mission Deep Throat and instituted Mission Make Baka Beg in its place.

Experimenting with different applications of his mouth, tongue, breath, fingers, and hands, he discovered that he could make his baka whine, beg, and plead as well as make the most deliciously interesting range of noises in various volumes. Different pressures and speed of stroking, particularly with his mouth, could bring his baka to the brink of orgasm and simply by releasing his cock and breathing on it, Heero could hold him there, body taut, for a while. He wasn't sure exactly how long because he found it impossible to track his internal clock when given the sight of his Duo straining for his pleasure. He wanted to see that every day for the rest of his life.

He discovered, by accident, that he could apply both oral and manual stimulation to his baka's cock simultaneously. He recalled reading this in the manuals, but listening to his baka's sexual arousal had occupied most of his attention for quite some time. He couldn't find it within himself to be contrite over the error. At least not at the moment. At the moment, with his lips wrapped around Duo's cock, his tongue massaging the underside, his hand lazily moving along the shaft, his baka was begging so sweetly. "Please, Heero, let me cum. I'll do anything! Please! Please! It hurts...."

Hurts! Heero immediately set about making his baka cum. His baka was _not_ permitted to hurt. Speed and pressure were the things his baka responded to. He tightened the hold his lips had on the upper portion of the shaft and he set his hand into purposeful motion with quick, sure strokes along the rest of it. He eased himself upwards, off of his baka's pelvis to allow him freedom to move as he would. His baka chose to writhe and jerk, attempting to bury his cock as deeply into Heero's mouth as Heero would permit, over and over again. His baka sobbed and moaned his name. And he liked that more than anything else his baka said. His own cock twitched and he rubbed it against his baka's leg. It felt good, but not as good as it had earlier.

" _Heero_!" His baka's body arched and tensed. In his mouth, his baka's cock expanded and shuddered, abruptly filling his mouth with salty fluid. Semen, he identified hazily.

Now that Duo had orgasmed and no longer hurt, he crawled up his baka's body and thrust his erection against his baka's thigh. He wanted sex. Now. His baka was mildly unconscious—the manuals had warned of the possibility so he wasn't concerned—so he waited, pressing small kisses along his baka's jaw and cheek. As soon as Duo came to, they were going to have sex. Heero planned on putting his own cock inside of his baka as soon as possible.

After eight minutes and thirty two seconds, his baka blinked glazed, purple eyes open. He had been gently rubbing himself against Duo's hip and thigh, waiting as patiently as possible with a demanding erection between his legs. His baka twisted his head and offered him a sexy, sappy smile. He leaned down and kissed it, pleased to feel his tongue meet Duo's in the middle. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensation of the kiss. He thrust his tongue inside of his baka's mouth, exactly as he intended to thrust himself inside of his baka's body. Hard, slick, and tender. Curling his tongue gently, he moaned when Duo sucked on it.

His hands slid along his baka's body, from the hard planes of his shoulder blades, down the dip of his lower back, to cup the rounded expanse of what he considered to be the most perfect set of buttocks in the entire Earth Sphere. Not only were they perfect, they were _his_. He hadn't gotten the forsake all other and keep myself only unto Heero Yuy, Pilot 01 forever and ever vow just yet, but he would. His fingers found the inward curve between his baka's butt cheeks and set about gently exploring. There was a hole there, an entrance to Duo's body that he had to prepare. He had mission plans already in motion for this part of sex. He had researched carefully and his fingers were trembling even though he hadn't penetrated— _penetrated!!_ —his baka just yet. His baka moaned into his mouth and wriggled, moving onto his fingers.

Gently, he parted those perfect cheeks and rubbed the little hole. Little being the operative word. While he was still uncertain as to the exact nature of his hungness, other than he was perfect according to Duo, he was having a difficult time believing that this little hole, which seemed smaller in diameter than his index finger, could accommodate the entire width of his erect penis. The books and Zechs both insisted that it could be done to great pleasure for Duo. His cock was insisting that it ought to be done immediately. Duo didn't appear to mind, he was moaning, smiling, and wriggling.

Slowly, he wormed the tip of his finger inside, just the tip. He knew he needed proper lubrication, but he'd left his carefully purchased supplies in the other room. He was aware that saliva would do, if necessary, and suddenly thought of rimming. He had been promised that this activity would make it much, much easier to penetrate his baka. Before he could think about it, he shifted down again, his goal a little bit farther back. He hiked his baka's legs over his shoulders and angled his baka's hips to present that little hole to best advantage.

"Heero? What are you—" his breath washed over Duo's upturned posterior. "Ooooooh."

Before notions of sanitation could get a foot hold in his mind, he stuck his tongue out and—

The door exploded open. "Yuy! Maxwell! Time to evacuate. Oz is two clicks from our present location." Wufei paused. "Yuy, that works better if you lift his backside up more. You'll get a stiff neck that way."


	19. If This Is Torture, Chain Me to the Wall!

Quatre grimaced and rubbed at his sternum.

"Querido?" Trowa gently slid his fingers along Quatre's cheek in concern.

"Something is wrong with Duo." Quatre pressed his palm flat to his chest and pushed, as if it could make the pain all go away.

"What is it, de minnaar?"

"I don't know, but all of his yelling and shouting is giving me a headache." He sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have listened to him about Death by Pepperoni. Do we have any antacids? My stomach is trying to eat my lungs."

Trowa smiled to himself and slid both antacids and aspirin on to the kitchen island counter in front of his lover. He had been smart enough to pick the excess pepperoni off of his slice and stick it on Duo's.

Quatre offered him a grateful smile, burped delicately, and groaned. "I'm never eating another pizza that Duo orders ever again."

He let his smile widen since no one else was around to see it. "You've said that before, amante."

"Oh, Allah, don't remind me."

"Take the pills, liebhaber." He settled a glass of milk in front of Quatre.

Wufei stalked in the kitchen, his face settled in a glare. He gave each of them a quelling version of the glare, then slammed the tea pot onto the stove. Quatre winced.

"Quatre has a headache. Quiet," he said, crossing his arms and staring pointedly at Wufei's back.

Wufei snorted, but quit slamming things around. "That, that _idiot_ doesn't know anything about being a proper gundam pilot!"

Trowa sighed. Not this again. "That would be because he's a princess."

"Then why did they give him a gundam!" Wufei slanted a glance at the sudden squeak coming from Quatre, who was now cheek first on the counter, arms over his head. "My apologies, Winner."

"It's the Dark Ages, somewhere unspecified in Europe. Everyone rides horses to get around."

Wufei snarled something in Mandarin under his breath and poured his insta-boil water into his tea cup.

Trowa brushed his hand against Quatre's face. "Would you like to try some bread, elskar?"

"Oh, Allah, don't mention food!"

"I'm sorry, dashnor."

"Albanian?"

"Yes, maitale."

Quatre picked up his head. "What was that one?"

"Basque, mylimasis."

Quatre sighed. "Trowa, due to mass media, global immigration patterns, and economic power structures, there are very few languages that will be left in use. Circa 8,000 BC, there were about 6,000 languages in use globally. By the 2,000 AD, there will only be about 300 languages. If things keep progressing as they have been, by the year 3,000 AD, there will only be 7 languages left. If you consider that best estimates from official gundam sources put 195 AC at centuries after 2000 AD, it's reasonable to estimate that it's somewhere in 2200 AD to 2900AD, since 3000 AD would put it at a millennium. So it's likely that there will be only 150 to 7 languages left during our lives. For Europeans, the number of languages will reduce at a more drastic rate than elsewhere if the European Union remains in power. The dominant Euro language is English. By the time AC 180, when you were most likely born, comes around, there will only be a handful of European languages left in use, so it's English, Spanish, or Portuguese. Take your pick."

Trowa blinked. "I was just using the free online foreign language dictionaries on this palm top you gave me for Christmas." He looked down at the small computer in his hand. "Eh-in."

Wufei carefully put the teapot back on the stove and sipped at his tea.

Quatre smiled up at his lover. "You like your present?"

Trowa nodded. "Very much," he checked the palm top, "koibito."

Quatre leaned up and nuzzled his nose against Trowa's for a moment, before tilting his head for a kiss. Their lips clung gently for a moment, before they broke apart. Trowa immediately checked to see what the Persian Farsi word for 'kiss' was.

Wufei placed his empty tea cup on the counter and furrowed his brow. "If you employ a little moisture on the lips, kissing will be smoother and more pleasant." Nodding pleasantly, he headed to the back yard to do his forms.

Trowa checked to see if there were any words in Tagalog for 'asshole'. Quatre dropped his face back into his arms and groaned.

"The man gets laid once and suddenly he's the Earth Sphere's greatest authority on fucking!" Duo snarled from the door, stalking to the refrigerator. Quatre whimpered. "What's up, Q-ball?"

"Headache," Trowa intoned.

Duo nodded, wincing in sympathy.

"Is that why you were yelling earlier?" Quatre asked, very quietly.

"Heero was brushing my hair," for some reason this made Duo blush brilliantly, "and I don't wanna talk about it."

Heero sidled into the kitchen and stood behind Duo, arms crossed. "Chang told me that my cute butt was immaterial."

"Don't listen to him, Heero. You've got the cutest butt anywhere and it's important to me," Duo soothed, leaning back into his not-lover.

Quatre and Trowa exchanged glances. Heero hadn't sounded upset, he'd sounded angry. Didn't he? Of course, he sounded that way when he was reading from the dictionary, so it was difficult to tell.

Heero rubbed his cheek in Duo's hair for a moment, then went back to glaring at the middle distance again.

"How do you think Oz found us?" Duo asked softly, looking worried.

"Five people suddenly check into a boarding school with names like Duo Maxwellhouse, Trowa Bartona, and Chang Wufei." Trowa rolled his eyes and snorted expressively. "Gee, I have _no_ idea how Oz could have found us."

Duo furrowed his brow. "Perhaps all five of us staying in this safehouse isn't the best idea?"

"Nonsense. We're not giving Oz the opportunity to catch us all in one place, there's safety in numbers," Quatre said. "Not to mention, my safehouse is comfortable and there are servants who would _never_ gossip about five young men suddenly showing up with gundams."

Duo relaxed. "Cool. If you think it's okay, Q-bean, then it's okay."

"Hn," Heero grunted.

"Don't be like that, Heero. I'm sure that the servants won't touch your laptop, at least not more than once."

"Hn."

"No, you cannot keep your laptop in my underwear drawer. I need the space for my porno mags."

"Hn."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Duh! Of _course_ no one would ever think to look there for anything important! That's why I keep my porno there."

"Hn."

Duo turned around, hands on hips, and glared. "Whattaya mean _your_ porno is better than _my_ porno?"

Heero glared back. "Hn."

Duo blushed. "Oh." Duo smiled sweetly. "You're my favorite porno, too, Heero."

A terrified look flashed briefly, _very_ briefly, over Heero's face. "Hn?"

"SHIT monthly? No, I don't have any of those. I'm not into bondage. I have a subscription to Hot Japanese Soldier Boys& Their Long-Haired Bakas." Duo grinned. "My favorite issue has this one boy who—wait a minute. SHIT monthly? You have SHIT Monthly mags?" Duo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "They wouldn't happen to feature _me_ as the centerfold, would they, Hee-chan?"

Heero shifted his weight, but frowned gamely at Duo. "Hn."

"I don't care."

"Hn."

"No. You're not going to distract me with lurid descriptions of the contents of Wufei's panty collection."

"Hn."

Duo brightened up. "Heeeeyyy. I like that idea. What do you two think? You in?"

Trowa didn't blink. Quatre looked puzzled. "In? On what?"

"Heero's idea!" Duo bounced in placed, rubbing his hands together. Heero looked smug.

Quatre frowned thoughtfully. "And what idea is that?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"I'm afraid that I don't speak Hn as fluently as you do, Duo."

Trowa looked through various online translation services, but didn't find any that translated from normal people language to 'hn', not even in fee-based services.

"C'mon Quat, it's not that hard to figure out. Heero said that we should raid Wufei's panty drawer, gift wrap them with silk scarves, handcuffs, and a whip, then send them to Treize-baby—"

Heero elbowed Duo in the ribs.

Duo glared at him. "Sorry. _Treize Khushrenaaaaadaaaaa_ ," he paused to stick his tongue out at Heero, "with a note attached that says that Wu-stud is tired of being the man in charge and would very much like it if his masterful General would take command and turn him into the sweet little femme bottom that he's always dreamed of being. Though I'm not sure where the spork comes in."

Heero looked quite pleased with himself. "Hn."

Duo blushed. "Add some chocolate to that and you've got yourself a deal."

Quatre blinked. "You got all of that from one 'hn'?"

"Yup!"

"Oookay."

"I'm in," Trowa said suddenly.

"Why does Wufei have panties, anyway?" Quatre asked, mystified.

"I don't know." Duo shrugged. "Weird thing for him to collect; he doesn't like girls."

"Hn."

Duo's jaw dropped. "No _shit_?"

Heero's lips twitched minutely.

"Whoa. I'm scarred for life now."

Quatre perked up. "What?"

Trowa lifted an eyebrow.

Duo looked through the sliding glass door, to make sure that Wufei was out of earshot, then hissed, "He wears 'em when he goes and studies at the library."

Quatre frowned, confused. Trowa exploded into laughter.

Suddenly, the glass door rocked open and Wufei burst in. Behind him, faintly on the breeze, came the less-than-melodious trilling of "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

All five pilots immediately panicked.

.

_An hour later, in a closet...._

.

"You did not have to come in here with me!" Wufei snarled, elbowing someone in the gut to gain some breathing space. "I was merely after a pair of shoes." He glared at everyone for good measure. "I am _not_ hiding!"

"Then why are you whispering?" Duo hissed.

"Because, because they are, mmm, _sacred_ shoes. Yes. Sacred. One must be properly reverent around—"

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

Almost as one, they flinched. It was getting closer.

"Shut up, you two," Quatre growled and cuddled deeper into Trowa.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

They relaxed minutely, except for Heero who couldn't stop gritting his teeth and wincing. She had prowled past Wufei's room, on down the hall. Hopefully, she would assume they were out and would—

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!" She was standing at the head of the stairs, from the sound of things. "Darn it, I could have sworn I heard them screaming up here earlier. Maybe they're on a mission? That's it! I'll go downstairs and make my lovey-dovey turtle pie something wonderful for when he gets back!"

Wufei snickered.

"Lovey-dovey turtle pie?" Trowa murmured. Heero reached out and smacked him.

Quatre smacked Heero. "Ssh! She'll hear you!"

"How long are we gonna have to sit in here? Wufei has stinky feet," Duo whined.

"Ssh!" Wufei and Quatre hissed in unison.

Heero considered kissing his baka to shut him up, but Duo was a moaner and he didn't think that would help.

"I dunno, until she falls asleep. She has ears like a bloodhound," Quatre whispered.

"Shit."

"Not in my closet!" Wufei snarled.

.

_Two hours later...._

.

Trowa had managed to prop himself in the corner and would have gone to sleep if Quatre hadn't bundled into his lap and cut off all the circulation to his legs. He would have moved, but Quatre had fallen asleep with a hand in his pants and, well, despite the fact that he lost all feeling in his legs, it was quite pleasant. Wufei leaned against the other corner, drool streaking down his chin. Every once in a while he mumbled something about justice, sporks, and spreading.

Heero had appropriated the largest amount of space for himself, but Duo, sprawled on him and lightly snoring, didn't make it any more comfortable. He was the Perfect Soldier, however, and Perfect Soldiers did not have their extremities go numb because of sleeping bakas. He would have surreptitiously kneaded his outer thigh to encourage circulation, but the baka was dead weight on both of his arms.

Without warning, the door flung itself open. "Ah-ha!"

Wufei smacked his head against the wall and yelled, "Treize, heel!"

Quatre jerked and Trowa curled around himself, seeing spots and wondering if he should try out for the Vienna Boys Choir next. The baka snorted, smacked his lips, and snuggled deeper into Heero's chest.

"Commander Une will be _so_ pleased with me," a feminine voice that was definitely _not_ Relena commented. "I knew that I would capture you."

It was that girl.

"Reiko Teapot Mortuary," Heero snarled.

"It's Reiko Tempestuous Muerte!" she shrieked. "I picked it out myself!"

"Mmm, 'Ro. Harder," Duo mumbled.

The hands in Heero's lap, specifically the hand in the very juncture of his lap, squeezed invitingly.

"You are now my prisoners. I will return you to Oz where you will face General Khushrenada and Commander Une for your fate!"

Khushrenada. Heero's brow furrowed. Khushrenada was a sovereign authority. He grinned suddenly. Quatre, in the direct line of fire for any of expression that bothered to show up on Heero's face, whimpered. "Ninmu ryoukai," Heero said, then yanked his arm out and palmed his baka's butt. Duo purred. Ninmu ryoukai indeed.

Reiko Tempestuous Muerte gestured with her pistol. "Come on out with your hands up, and don't try anything funny!"

Quatre glared. "I don—"

"We will surrender peacefully," Heero snapped. Hefting his sleeping baka, he stood up and strode from the closet. Perfect Soldiers do _not_ hobble even when they have pins and needles from butt bone to tip toe.

"Wait a minute," Reiko Tempestuous Muerte bellowed, "I'm in charge here! I've got the gun!"

She waved it in the air and trotted after Heero. Confused, Quatre stood and stretched the kinks out while Trowa staggered to his feet and hopped around. If he had been anyone else, he would have been cussing or whining. Wufei put a hand in the small of his back and arched, groaning.

"We'd better hurry up or we'll miss our kidnapping," Quatre muttered.

Wufei glowered. "That idiot onna of Heero's is _not_ after us and that idiot onna with the gun left. I see no reason to follow. Yuy will take care of her quickly enough."

Quatre sighed. "But they're taking Duo to Treize and that's not good."

Wufei looked startled for a moment, then his patented Glare of Imminent Justice lasered through the room. "I must go."

"Uh, okay."

"We'll stay here and guard the safehouse. We'll monitor in case you need an extract." Trowa said before Quatre could volunteer to join the group. Quatre did open his mouth to dissent, but Trowa's hand sliding into the back of his pants shut him right back up. "You'd better hurry, Wufei, before they turn Duo into a girl and marry him to Khushrenada."

The eye portion of the Glare of Imminent Justice narrowed at that, then Wufei was gone.

"Trowa! We have to go and—"

"Silence, my little desert blossom," Trowa growled, nuzzling his face into the sensitive crook of Quatre's neck.

Quatre blinked, then frowned. "You know I hate being—"

"I said silence, little prince. I nearly got killed by the guardsmen when I stole you from your father's palace last night and I expect a reward for my efforts."

Quatre scratched his head. "Trowa? What—"

"Be silent, my little desert treasure. I am the dashingly notorious and devilishly infamous Dread Pirate Trowa and I have stolen you from the bosom of your family to make you my own. That means I can gag you if I want." He nibbled the spot under Quatre's ear that always made him melt. It worked this time as well.

Quatre lolled his head back, moaning. His voice, when it came, was breathy and unsteady. "Are you okay, Trowa?"

Trowa straightened up with a sigh. "I think we're going to have to work on your role playing skills."

With a sweep of his foot and a push of his hand, Quatre had Trowa sprawled across the bed. "My guardsmen are very skilled at warfare, Dread Pirate Trowa. You were so easy to capture." Quatre trailed a finger down Trowa's cheek and across his throat. "My father was going to chop off your head and use you as compost for his zen cactus meditation garden, but I convinced him to give you to me. I had to give up my harem for you, my sweet pirate. That deserves a reward, don't you think?" Quatre ripped the fly of Trowa's jeans open with the flick of a wrist.

Trowa groaned. "Oh, yes, Quatre."

"Call me master, bedslave."

Trowa could only think one thing: if this is torture, chain me to the wall! Or bed. Yeah, bed first, wall later, maybe the kitchen table, then the hammock....

.

_Back at Oz castle...._

.

Heero found himself chained to a wall again, alone in his cell, without his baka. Wufei and Duo were taken elsewhere and Heero did not like it. He waited until the chortling big, burly Oz officers had slammed the door shut behind them, then broke the chains. He shoved on the door, popping the lock too quietly for any roving big, burly Oz officers, who had a curious sort of hearing disability for breaking metal anyway, to hear.

"You bastards!" Duo's shriek bounced down the hallway. "Hands off the hair!"

A low, feral growl roiled through the corridor. No one, but _no one_ touched his baka's hair but _him_.

"No! Get that the hell away from me! You people are seriously fucked in the head! Heero! Goddammit! You'd better come and fucking rescue me before they turn me into a girl or I'm goddamned well going to marry you—" Duo interrupted himself with an inarticulate shriek of rage.

Heero paused and weighed the pros of Duo's willingness to marry versus the cons of Duo being a girl.

"—and take lessons in how to be a girl from Relena!"

He didn't like girls anyway. He charged down the hall, roaring, "Omae o korosu!"

"Heero! Oh God. Hee...."

He exploded into the Oz version of Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory to find his not-princess once again strapped, butt naked, to a table. This was going to have to stop. No one was permitted to see his baka naked but him or anyone he gave permission to, which was no one! There were three persons in labcoats this time, along with several big, burly Oz officers. Heero dispatched them all with one swing of his fist.

"Baka?"

His not-princess blinked glazed eyes up at him and it wasn't the good kind of glazed eyes, either, the kind that came from kissing and licking and he cut that line of thought off when his spandex started twitching.

"Heero," his baka murmured.

"I'll save you, baka," he said, his tone as heartfelt as he could make it.

"Th' shtuck me 'gain." The eyes were blinking more, with longer periods between flashes of purple.

He unbuckled the leather straps and cuddled his baka to his chest. "That's okay."

"Y' shoulda rescued me 'fore th' did...."

Heero tenderly wiped away a bit of drool from his not-princess's mouth and smiled a smile that would have made others smile back, had there been an actual living person present. "That would have interfered with my mission, baka."


	20. Weddings for Dummies, Assorted Idiots & Grooms

After trying, with a distinct lack of cooperation on both the parts of Duo and his skin-tight, black leather pants, to put his baka's clothes back on his baka, he wrestled the lab coat from the largest lab assistant, then put it on Duo. While long, the coat left what he considered an indecent amount of his baka's legs exposed. He tried, but couldn't get it farther down than his ankles. Hn. If anyone looked at the little bit of his baka's legs and bare feet that were showing, well, omae o korosu was all he had to say. He tossed the not-princess over his shoulder, palmed his butt to hold him steady, and went stomping off to put the next phase of the mission into motion.

.

_In Treize-baby's suite...._

.

"I am very displeased with you, Treize," Wufei growled, stalking slowly back and forth like an irate panther with its pony tail tied too tight. "I thought we'd discussed this when I lost our last duel. What have you to say for yourself?"

"Mmph! Mm mmmm mm mmmmmph!"

Wufei snorted in disgust. "That's what I thought you'd say." He reversed the crop in his fist and used the pommel to tilt the kneeling Treize's chin up higher. "You've been a naughty, naughty tyrant and you must be punished."

Treize's eyes widened to the size of saucers and his body flailed against its bindings. "Meemmime moo!"

Wufei chortled. Oh, he liked it that his tyrant knew his place. "Exactly," he purred, running the tip of the crop along Treize's cheek, just above the strap of the gag.

Treize shook his head and bucked harder against his restrains. "Maa mee! Meemmime moo!"

"Punishment is good for you, my naughty little tyrant."

Treize shrieked in his gag, his face turning red. "Mmm—!"

And, for Wufei at least, everything went black.

Heero smirked. "Naughty little tyrant?"

Treize shut his eyes and dropped his forehead onto the mattress.

.

_Ten minutes later...._

.

Heero death glared at Treize. Treize just smiled a cat-that-ate-the-guy-with-a-beam-cannon smile. "Hn," Heero growled.

"That's the way it works, Heero. We have to watch. Look it up if you're curious."

Heero deflated. "You can't look at my baka."

"It doesn't work that way. You want this done right, I have to look at her as well."

Heero frowned. "Her?"

"Princess Duo. Isn't this a little extreme?"

"Duo is male."

Treize blinked, then laughed. "Very funny. I like this sense of humor you've developed, 01."

Heero snorted. "Does it have to be both of you?" It was bad enough that _Treize-baby_ had to watch, but the man his not-princess occasionally referred to as 'Wu-stud'? Not if he had anything to say about it.

"Actually, there needs to be two others besides myself and we all have to watch."

Heero glowered. _Another_ person? He knew that he should have forced that idiot girl, Reiko Trembles Murky, to bring Quatre and Trowa along. Duo had never shown any real interest in them.

"Zechs is available," Treize purred. "You _do_ want this to be done properly?"

Heero turned his glare onto the wallpaper, ignoring the way it blistered and peeled from the wall. "Yes. I must complete the mission no matter what the sacrifice."

Next to Treize, Wufei moaned and his lolling head twitched.

"You can call Zechs in by dialing 06 on the phone. I believe he's in his office at the moment."

Zechs, it turned out, was only too pleased to be included in the mission. While Heero admired the man, he wasn't too sure he liked the man's enthusiasm. Or amusement. At least he wouldn't have to tie him up like he had to Treize and Wufei. And he wouldn't have to gag Zechs like he had to gag Wufei.

"We have time, 01, perhaps you would fill me in on the details of your plan? I'd like to see a successful conclusion considering our deal." Treize smiled as if he were in charge.

He didn't particularly want to discuss his mission with _Treize-baby_ , but the man did have a lot of experience and was an excellent tactician. Now would not be a bad time to have some of his more involved questions answered.

.

_Conveniently, immediately after Heero's preparations were completed...._

.

Duo felt like he was swimming through pea soup on his way out of dreamland. His mouth felt thick, cottony, and minty-fresh and his limbs felt like they were weighted with gundams. He wrinkled his nose, wondering why it felt like his face was getting smooshed by spandex, and smacked his lips. Blinking open his eyes he saw nothing but black. "Aaah! Those stupid Oz bastards blinded me!"

"Baka."

"Heero, goddammit! I told you to friggin save me!" He was so gonna kick Heero's ass over this one, even if he had to do it by feel.

"You're not blind."

He snorted. Heero no baka. "I can't see anything."

"I blindfolded you."

He blinked. Then he frowned. "What the fuck for?"

"This." And then Heero's tongue trailed up the slope of his throat, over his chin, and in between his lips. "And this." And then Heero's fingers trailed down his ribs, into the dip of his waist, and further down , beneath him, to his buttocks.

"Ooohhh...."

"Is this acceptable?"

"Mmmm, yeah. But what about Oz?"

"Mission complete." Heero's fingers twitched closer to him, digging between his butt cheeks to tease him.

Mission shmission. Heero had more important things to concentrate on and Duo was just the man to make sure he did. If anyone interrupted them this time all hell was going to break loose. Shinigami would put the fucking smack down on anyone who came between him and the demise of his virginity. Heero's finger found a very private, virgin spot and wiggled. "Oh god, do that again."

"I like it when you talk to me, baka," Heero growled, nibbling the curve of his jaw and leaving behind a moist trail of pure sensation. He groaned, deep in his throat. "I like it when you moan for me even better."

Duo moaned again. "That might be sexier if you'd use vocal inflection." Heero bit him just beneath his ear and he couldn't stop his entire body from arching. "Or you could do that. God."

"Vocal inflection. Ryoukai," Heero muttered.

"Eh?"

"You're beautiful, baka," Heero said, his voice rising and falling in perfect iambic cadence, despite the less than iambic nature of his words. "I adore you, my baka. Your beauty waits to be plucked, like a rose petal dripping with dew."

Oddly enough, he could have sworn he heard a you-blew-it sort of groan and someone suppressing a snigger in the background.

He frowned. "Uh, Heero? What have you been drinking?"

"Bottled artesian water. I am seducing you." And he had to sound all pissy about it, too, the bastard.

"Yeeeeeeee-ah, okay. Look, I'm more into the strong, silent type and not into the kind of pansy that would come up with _that_ stupid line. Hell, only a real bottom boy would say something all girly like that. So skip the poetics and fuck me into the mattress, baby!"

A very distinct and very self-satisfied, though muffled, justice grunt followed that announcement. This was followed by something that sounded vaguely like "I'm not a pansy, I like roses! Thorns are danger incarnate! They're very manly!" but he couldn't be sure.

He lifted his hand to move the blindfold, but Heero twined their fingers together instead. "Did you say something, Heero?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"You're beautiful, baka—"

"God, not that again. I'm losing my fucking hard-on here."

"I adore y—"

Duo glowered into his blindfold, miffed. "I'm gonna go choke the chicken, then get some pizza. You go ahead and practice seducing the pillows, a'ight?"

"Your bea-"

Duo shoved on Heero's hands, almost moving him a whole sixteenth of an inch.

"Shall I com—" Heero grunted in sheer frustration then abruptly snarled, "I will do this my own way."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Are you taking a how to fuck a princess class from Relena or something?"

Heero grunted, then attacked.

Ooh yeah. Now this was more like it. His dick perked right up and so did everything else. And then Heero did that thing with his tongue. The thing that involved a lot of hot, wet licking like he wanted to taste the very essence of Duo's soul. Through his dick. Heero did it perfectly, marvelously, fantastically. Heero applied tongue to his balls with his cock shoved all the way down that hot, tight throat. He'd seen shit like this in porn, but thought it was all camera angles. He _never_ thought he'd ever feel it.

"Oh Heero!" he cried, his passion spilling from his heart like the rush of a river pouring past the precipice of love like Niagra Falls to fill his loins with the resounding joy that was the perfect blowjob from the perfect mouth that was only Heero's. "Oh, Heero! Yes! Yes! God, Heero, my darling! My precious! Oh!"

Heero grunted, but the resulting "hn" was too muffled by cock to be decipherable, even by someone as fluent in Hn as Duo.

Two glistening tears, like trailing diamonds flung across the starry night sky, fell from the gorgeous sparkling amethyst jeweled lilacs that were Duo's eyes. His soft pink, bow shaped lips parted in shy, trembling ecstasy as he was overcome by the depth of passion that could only be found in the depths of Heero's ocean-deep cobalt prussian blue eyes.

Duo lifted his head again, grinning. "Thought you were all into that poetic, candy-ass bullshit."

A muffled justice snicker slid through the room. Nah, couldn't be. Another muffled hn vibrated from Heero's throat along the length of his weeping erection right on down into his balls.

"Oh, _hell_ yeah!" Duo yelled. "You fucking give hummers, too! I am one lucky motherfucking son of a bitch!"

There was a sound suspiciously like a snort, but since he didn't feel it vibrating his dick, he didn't pay any attention to it.

Heero's mouth suddenly popped off of his cock. "You fucked your _mother_?"

"Shit, 'Ro, it's an expression! You gonna suck my dick or what? I wanna fuck you! Wufei comes 'tween me and your ass again, I'm gonna jam his spork collection up his butt!"

There was an indignant squawk and a snicker. Duo leaned up onto his elbows. "What was tha—mmph!"

Heero's tongue landed in his mouth and went spelunking for his epiglottis. And Duo really couldn't remember anything terribly coherent after that. Heero's kisses needed to be on the illegal addictive narcotic substances list. Nancy Reagan would be shrieking, "just say no!" if she knew about what Heero could do with his tongue.

Oh my fucking God were the only words that managed to penetrate his fogged brain, and not necessarily in that order.

Heero writhed his tongue along the roof of Duo's mouth. He could taste the sharp sweet flavor of Heero and residual bottled artesian water and he suddenly couldn't breathe. He didn't want to breathe. He just wanted to live on the taste of Heero's tongue. In his mouth. Heero's tongue. In him. He groaned, pressing himself tighter and tangling his own tongue up against Heero's. He opened his mouth wider and slithered his tongue out to lick at Heero's lips. A breathy groan roiled between them. Beneath him, Heero's palms caught his butt cheeks, kneading them and pulling them apart. It felt good and sexy and made him want to thrust himself over and over again against Heero's groin.

"Do you love me, baka?" Heero whispered against his jaw, trailing that hot, wet tongue along the length of his jaw to tease the flesh beneath his ear.

Duo moaned and shoved harder against Heero.

"Say you love me, baka," Heero murmured, stirring shivers down his spine with his heated breath.

"Nnn, Heero," he whined, twisting his head for more kisses. "Shut up and kiss me."

Heero lapped at his lips and swiped at his teeth with his tongue. Fingers roved down his body, tracing the bumps of his collarbones and down along his ribs. He gasped, arching, when a nipple was tweaked and tugged. "Tell me, baka."

"Huh?" He blinked up into the blindfold, trying to understand what Heero was saying, or, more accurately, why Heero wasn't using his tongue for better things. Like kissing. "Kiss me!"

And Heero did. He slid his tongue into Duo again, this time accompanied by the full, _naked_ heat of Heero's body thrusting against his. Oh my fucking God. "Promise to love me," Heero whispered against his lips again, then followed this with a long, slow lick along the throb of his jugular.

"Just kiss me, goddammit!"

"Promise...."

"Fine, I promise!" He was rewarded with the return of Heero's tongue and groaned. He melted into the bed, his hands slicking along the rippling muscles in Heero's back, down to the most perfect ass in existence.

"Say it. Say it and I'll kiss you all you want."

"I promise."

"Promise to love me," Heero breathed, his hand moving down Duo's stomach to sink into a thick thatch of chestnut curls.

"I promise to love you," he gasped, arching into the hand. Just turn over. Just a little bit. Fingers were one of the greatest gifts to give to a hard-on. He thrust his hips upward, running his cock full length through those fingers. God, Heero had perfect fingers.

"Good baka," Heero growled, then sank his tongue back into Duo's mouth.

Duo arched his back, gasping, when those perfect fingers began to slowly jack him off. Down to the base, then back up with a deft twist of the wrist. He whined and thrust up into that hand as best he could with Heero laying half on top of him.

Heero's breath licked at his cheek, sending shivers of sensation running down his spine. "I promise to love you as..." Two of Heero's fingers swirled through the slick precum on the way sensitive head of his dick, then paused. "...as required..." Frustrated fingers swirled again. "...mission, love..." The fingers slid down until two of them firmly held the spot just below the head, you know, that hot spot on the underside where all the nerves are and they made fireworks sort of shoot off in his brain."I promise to love you," Heero snarled.

"Err?" He blinked into the blindfold, the haze of hard-on-induced halcyon fading a bit. And then Heero's other hand slid between his legs and cupped his balls, long fingers slipping behind them to press _right there_. "Heero!"

He could _feel_ Heero's smirk against his cheek. This was followed by a lick, then another, just a little lower, on the underside of his jaw. He groaned in his throat, arching his neck for whatever Heero wanted to do with it. Heero wanted to suck. And lick more. God, that felt so fucking good. Heero added some nibbling to his repertoire when he hit the collarbone, then teethed down and around the sharp, inner edge of his left pectoral. The most erotic thing he'd ever felt was Heero's breath washing over his nipple while Heero's lips clung to the flesh just beneath it. That or Heero's fingers working his cock like, like, like _that_. Shit. Fuck! "Heero! God! More, goddammit, more. Oh fuck, I'm gonna—"

Scream in unmitigated frustration. The fingers left his cock behind to trail up through the sweat on his belly, past his heaving ribs, to tweak the nipple Heero wasn't breathing on. The other fingers, instead of pressing hard enough into that fuck-it-feels-good spot behind his balls, massaged in light circles.

"Goddammit, Heero!" he yelled when the maelstrom of almost orgasm receded. "Quit fucking around and just do it!"

"Patience, baka."

"Patience my goddamned ass! You're gonna be the fuckee if you ain't careful, Hee-buddy!" Heero snickered, off to the side and in a muffled Wuff the Buff voice. He frowned. "What the—oh fuck!"

Heero cut him off by simultaneously biting his nipple, squeezing his cock, and gently twirling a finger around his hole. His entire body arched off the bed and he muffled a scream. Sort of.

"Good baka," Heero said, sounding smug as shit.

"Asshole."

The finger in his butt tickled. "Yes, baka. That's what I'm touching."

He shivered, moaning. "Heero."

The finger left for a moment, then came back, this time slippery and cool. "Like this baka?"

It felt even better all slick like that. The finger twisted and twirled, moving round in complex patterns that teased him. When the hand on his cock began a languorous stroking, he thought he'd died and gone straight to pervert heaven. He spread his legs wider, lifting his hips to get closer to that finger. Heero shifted, moving to his side and lapping at his nipple, just enough for him to get his feet flat on the bed. The finger pushed, almost but not quite penetrating and he whined in the back of his throat.

Heero hummed in satisfaction against his chest, pulling the finger back when he tried to impale himself on it.

"Quit teasing, dammit, _please_!"

The finger came back, this time nuzzling itself into him. It parted the depression and eased its way through the tight clench of muscle. He gasped, arching into it. It felt like, it was, oh God, "Heero, fuck!"

"Promise to cherish me."

The finger pulled out a little, then thrust in, just a bit deeper, and the hand on his cock sped up.

"Promise me, baka."

"P-promise!" He shoved his hips at that finger, trying to get more of it, but it pulled away. "Heero, please!"

"Say it. Promise to cherish me." The finger pulled all the way out this time, going back to its teasing and almost prudish probing. "Say it, baka."

"I promise to cherish you. Fuck Heero, stick it in. Please!"

The finger thrust in, powerful and confident. It brushed against something that had him jerking clear off the bed and strangling a scream.

"I promise to cherish you, too," Heero said.

"Great, fine, whatever. Do that again!" He twitched his hips, just to be clear about what he wanted again. And he got it. The finger moved in and out, turning and wiggling and brushing that one spot while the hand on his cock jerked him in perfect rhythm. "Heero, God, Heero," he chanted, wriggling himself after that finger. "I'm gonna, oh fuck! Heero, you bastard!"

The finger disappeared and his hard cock flopped onto his abdomen, all alone, by itself, with no Heero petting it. Bastard!

"Good baka," Heero said, then kissed him. Long and slow with a lot of lip movement and little tongue action. One of Heero's hands ghosted along his body, touching him lightly in places, predatorily in others. He barely noticed it when that finger slid back inside of him, gently circling. His eyes popped open and he squawked indignantly when a second was added. "Easy, baka. Relax."

The two fingers stilled while Heero's lips traced a meandering path down his chest and belly. He sucked in a breath, holding it, his body quivering, and then those lips touched the end of his cock. Heero's tongue came out and gently lapped along the length of his shaft. He moaned in his throat, spreading his legs a little wider. Heero nibbled his way back up, until his lips pressed against the head. "Good baka," Heero said, then let the tip of his cock slide inside. At the same time, he twisted the two fingers and hit _that_ spot.

"Fuck," he gasped, feeling like he was going to drown on oxygen.

"Mmm," Heero growled in appreciation, the fingers withdrawing. Duo could almost just see the fierce expression on his face, that my-mission-is-going-well-and-I'm-enjoying-the hell-out-of-myself Glare o' Death.

At the same time that Heero's mouth plunged down, sheathing the entire length of his cock in what had become his favorite place in the whole world, Heero tweaked one of his nipples and shoved his fingers back inside, hitting _that_ spot. His ass came up off the bad and he tried the mangle the shriek that came out. The penetration was thicker, fuller, burning, and rhythmically hitting _that_ spot. Oh my fucking God. "Heero!"

"Mmm," Heero said around his cock, vibrating him all the way to the balls.

"Fuck, Heero!" His hips wriggled and he couldn't stop them until Heero's arm banded across his pelvis and held him down. He couldn't stop his fingers from sinking into Heero's hair, curling into that thick pelt of— "Oh fuck, Heero, more!"

Heero had changed rhythm with his fingers, abruptly, into slow shallow movements that stretched on the downstroke and manipulated _that_ spot for several forevers on the upstroke. His cock slipped out, slapping wetly against Heero's forearm. Lips wrapped themselves around the shaft, just under the head, and suckled. The fingers, oh my fucking God, the fingers kept up their slow torture, never giving quite enough speed or power to get him anywhere, but giving just enough to keep him panting and writhing around and begging.

"Please, Heero. I— fuck, please! Do something. God, _please_!"

"You like this, baka?"

"Yes!" He screamed just to make sure Heero got the message. "Fucking do _more_ and do it _faster_!"

"First, promise to forsake all others, keep yourself only unto Heero Yuy, pilot 01, forever and ever."

"Yeah, okay, what the fuck ever. Just, oh my _fucking_ God, do that _again_!" The fingers paused on the upstroke and spread out, one of them petting his prostate the same way he wanted to pet the inside of Heero's throat with his cock, before backing off.

"Promise first, baka."

Heero shifted on the bed, pulling away. That was okay, though, because those fingers were still there, inside him right where they were gonna stay. He'd kill anyone that came between him and those wonderful, perfect fucking fingers. He could feel Heero's legs and hips against his inner thighs and then Heero's hand, freshly slicked up with something, curled around his cock and the only thing he could feel with throbbing pleasure.

"Say it, baka. Say I promise to forsake all others."

He lifted his hips instead, whimpering and thrusting into the hand that didn't hold him tight enough to do anything but stimulate him even more.

"Say it."

"Fuck. I promise to, aaah! To forsake all, fuck, others. Do it again! Please, Heero, please do that again."

"Promise to keep yourself only unto Heero Yuy, pilot 01, forever and ever."

"Nnn, I wanna cum. _Please_ let me cum." He jiggled his hips as enticingly as he could.

"Promise."

"I promise to keep myself only to Heero Yuy, pilot 01, for fucking ever, just do something. Quit teasing me!"

"Perfect, baka," Heero said, pulling his fingers out.

"By the power vested in me as His Excellency, the _very_ manly and masculine not-pansy General of Oz, I now pronounce you man and, er, married to each other. You may kiss the baka."

His entire body jackknifed in complete shock, or would have if Heero hadn't suddenly been laying on top of him. _What_ the _fuck_? He opened his mouth to yell at Heero—the haze of pleasure receding really fucking fast despite the hand still jacking his dick—but Heero used the opportunity to stick a tongue in there instead. He was about to get all medieval on Heero's ass anyway, when, suddenly, he was penetrated. By something hot. And thicker than fingers. And long. And hot. And it hit _that_ spot which was all primed and ready to go and didn't give a fuck about the voice of His Excellency using the word _married_ because Heero was rubbing something hot and thick against _that_ spot. Back and forth. Slow. Until he wasn't thinking about anything but whatever was touching him _there_.

Heero suddenly growled into his mouth and ripped the blindfold off. He blinked in the low light until a pair of fiercely pleased blue eyes came into focus. A pair of blue eyes that were all but screaming "I'm gonna fuck you like an animal". Heero lifted his face away, propping himself up on his hands—both hands—and that whatever it was started moving faster inside of him. His eyes trailed down one set of beautifully sculpted biceps on the right side of his head and then down the other set of beautifully sculpted biceps on the left side of his head and then met Heero's eyes again, widening in the suddenly realization. Oh _fuck_. That was Heero's _cock_. Heero's _cock_ was touching him inside, in _that_ spot!

Heero was fucking him! He was getting fucked by Heero. Right now. In that very bed. By Heero. And Heero's cock. And Heero's cock hit _that_ spot and his entire body bucked into it. Heero growled again, his fiercely pleased expression turning that much more intent. Fuck, Heero was goddamned sexy when he was fucking.

Duo wrapped his legs around Heero's hips just because he could, then found out that this particular angle did absolute wonders for the logistics of cock head to prostate intersection. And he could use it for leverage to fuck back. And that pleased look changed to straight hungry. There was nothing, but _nothing_ sexier than a fucking Heero looking straight hungry. He wrapped his hand around his own cock.

Faster. Harder. More. _Heero_.

His body responded to the order with enthusiasm. His abs shrieked in protest, but were overruled by his dick and _that_ spot. And Heero's oh-so-perfect cock meeting every thrust he made with power, and more importantly, precision right to _that_ spot. Every downstroke hit _that_ spot. And every upstroke put the other _that_ spot, the one on his dick, into the tight well of his fingers. And oh my fucking God it felt better than anything he'd ever done. Up to and including jacking off.

"Heero! Fuck! I'm gonna, fuck!" And then he was. Coming. A _lot_.

He was vaguely aware of Heero's scrunched up expression and bared teeth hovering over him, but he was too busy with his own full-body-muscle-spasm-four-pounds-of-C4-going-off-in-his-balls-twenty-thermal-scythes-taking-over-his-brain-when-did-the-stars-suddenly-show-up-in-his-eyeballs-in-technicholor-holy-fucking- _shit_ orgasm to pay much attention to Heero's.

.

_Several minutes later...._

.

Heero was steady enough when he stood up, but walking was impossible. He staggered toward _Treize-baby_ and methodically began untying knots. It was difficult with shaking fingers. If his baka thought for one moment that he was never doing that again just because they were married, then his baka was really a baka.

"That was, by far, the best wedding ceremony that I've ever attended, in whatever capacity, Heero. Congratulations," Treize said.

Heero smirked.

"And if you'll excuse us, I have my dragon to enjoy now."

Heero nodded.

Treize looked at him expectantly.

He glared at Treize.

Treize glared back. "It's _my_ boudoir."

Heero gave him a death glare.

Treize scowled.

Heero pulled the nearest .50AE.

"We'll just be going now," Treize said, and promptly picked up the right side of Wufei's chair. "Zechs, love, help me with our dragon. I don't think he plans on cooperating with us. At least not yet."

"Congratulations, Heero," Zechs said, picking up the left side of Wufei's chair.

"Mmm! Mmmmm! Mmm!" Wufei yelled. Heero chose to ignore the death threat in Wufei's congratulations.

He locked the door behind the three and looked at his baka, sleeping on the bed with an idiotic, sated grin on his face and that _very_ cute butt sticking up. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and decided that it was time to wake his baka up. They were honeymooning now and he had a mission to honeymoon the hell out of his baka.


	21. Those Are Six Guns Full of Sexy

Duo had been stomping around the second floor of the safehouse for two hours solid, which is exactly how long it had been since they returned from Treize's bedroom, and exactly four hours since their marriage. Quatre sighed and Trowa glared at Heero. Heero took a sip of his tea and admired his baka's stamina.

The shower came on upstairs and Duo promptly began singing _I'm Gonna Fucking Kill Heero!_ to the tune of _Happy Birthday_ , off-key, at the top of his lungs. Quatre sighed and Trowa glared at Heero. Heero was impressed when his baka's voice didn't give out after twenty minutes of caterwauling.

The shower cut off and the stomping started again, in place, accompanied by the blow drier and an even louder rendition of _My Dying Heero_ , sung to the tune of _My Darling Clementine,_ also off-key and with a great deal of imagination. Quatre sighed and Trowa glared at Heero. Heero made note of several of the more innovative methods of killing another human being.

The blow drier, once it shut off, came sailing down the stairs to crash into the front door; the stomping went from room to room again, occasionally punctuated by the sound of various objects hitting a wall, but the singing had stopped. Quatre sighed and Trowa glared at Heero. Heero was disappointed, he had been enjoying his baka's pleasant singing voice, not to mention that if his baka was singing songs for him, his baka _must_ have forgiven him for marrying him.

Forty minutes into the stomping, Quatre sighing, and Trowa glaring, Duo galloped down the stairs. "I'm going out!" his baka bellowed.

"Duo, quit yelling," Quatre said. "We're right in front of you."

Duo sniffed and joined Trowa in glaring at Heero.

Heero's mouth dropped open in shock. He'd never seen his baka dressed like this. This was, it was, oh _my_.

"Going clubbing?" Quatre snapped. "Instead of trying to work—"

"I'm not speaking to _him_ ," Duo yelled.

"Duo, quit yelling," Quatre said again, then sighed. Trowa glared at Heero.

Heero managed to shut his mouth. His baka looked _hot_. Beneath a stylish , tightly fitted, white polyester sport coat with widely flaring lapels Duo wore tight-fitting, bright white, high-waisted, polyester pants that clung to his abdomen, hips, ass, and thighs while flaring a little at the ankles. A white vest, cut perfectly to emphasize the bulge in his crotch beneath the smooth, nearly uninterrupted fabric of his pants as well as the expanse of his chest revealed beneath an unbuttoned black satin shirt, matched the white fabric of his jacket and high-waisted pants. His feet were encased in a pair of shiny, patent leather dance shoes with soft soles that gleamed in counterpoint to his black satin shirt.

Staring at the vision that was Duo, Heero had to reach down and adjust his spandex while he mentally skipped over the next step in Mission: Honeymoon—get his baka to not be angry with him anymore—and jumped right into the step after that—slowly strip his baka of that _hot_ outfit, licking every inch of flesh he revealed—and into his favorite step—put his hands all over his baka and then his mouth and then put his hard c—

"See ya!" Duo yelled, then bounced through the front door.

Heero stood up, checked the clips in his .50AEs and the rounds chambered in his back up .357, and headed for the door.

"Heero, wait!" Quatre jumped between him and the door. "Where are you doing?"

Heero glowered; it was obvious what he was doing. He stepped around Quatre and went through the front door, following Duo.

"Oh, Allah, it's going to be tragedy." Quatre ran for the stairs. "Trowa! We're going clubbing!"

.

_Thirty minutes later...._

.

Heero decided against a frontal assault, primarily because the bouncer was checking IDs and he didn't have any of his carefully prepared fakes with him. Instead, he snuck in through the back way. It was easy, their security was lax; actually, their security was doing something highly illegal involving illicit drugs and a pair of blondes. He glowered as he made his way through the stockpiles of liquor. He was getting his baka out of this place and then blowing it up. He did _not_ want his baka corrupted unless he was doing the corrupting.

And there was _his_ baka. Dancing like the God of Little Death that he was in the middle of a ring of clapping cheering people with some redheaded _man_. He flexed his fingers and reminded himself that he could not open fire on the enemy with so many civilians present. He couldn't exactly recall why that would be a bad idea, so that made it somewhat difficult to remove his hands from the butts of his .50AEs. Especially when that _man_ came up behind Duo and started dancing with barely enough space to see the sparkly lights tossed off by that mirrored ball over the dance floor. And then that _man's_ hands curled around _his_ baka's body to run suggestively along the front of _his_ baka's thighs and that _man's_ front was pressing and rubbing—

"Hey! Hands off!" Duo bellowed. The redhead ignored him, reaching down to pinch his butt. "I said hands off, you—mppph!"

The evilly laughing redhead twirled the baka, _his_ baka, around and kissed him firmly, ignoring the struggles that sent his baka's braid swinging in mortified terror. The redhead's other hand went down between his baka's legs and squeezed his crotch.

Heero went through the crowd like a gundam through a bunch of less than operational mobile dolls, grabbed the redhead by the back of the neck, peeled him off of his baka, and threw him onto the floor. He was just about to pull out the .357 since the .50s wouldn't prolong the pain nearly as well, when the redhead leaped to his feet, his purple, crushed velvet jacket flaring around his gold medallions.

"Hey, I'm dancin' here."

Heero crossed his arms over his chest and glowered.

The redhead snarled and poked Heero in the chest. "Hey, you, I'm talkin' to you!"

Heero threw the hand off of him and reached for the .357 again.

"You wanna piece of this?" Red snarled, getting in his face.

"Heero, no!" Duo tugged at his arm. "Don't! Let's just go dance."

"You _really_ wanna piece of this?"

"A piece? No. I want the whole thing." Heero sneered, the fingers on his left hand curling around the convenient—and cute—butt of his left hand .50AE, and flicked his other fingers in Red's face.

.

_At the front of the club...._

.

Quatre flashed his Winner ID and got them both into Disco Inferno, Duo's favorite disco. Never mind that they were both very obviously underage and that dance clubs didn't exactly exist anyway. The music was throbbing an upbeat melody and the place was packed. Through the flashes of gyrating people, Trowa could see Duo on the floor, dancing with a redheaded man. Quatre handed his coat over to the coat check girl, absently, too intent on finding Heero before he started a massacre. Especially since he could see the redhead humping Duo's leg already.

"Trowa, do you see Heero? Has he killed anyone yet?"

Trowa glared at the floor between them, arms crossed over his chest. He shook his head.

Quatre blinked. "Take off your coat."

He shook his head violently and hugged himself tighter. The leather trench coat was buttoned to his chin.

Quatre frowned. "Take off your coat, you'll stand out."

He shook his head harder and backed a step toward the door.

Quatre glared his do-it-or-else glare. "We've got to blend!"

Quatre? Blend? In exactly _whose_ imagination would _that_ happen, pray tell? Or that's what he might have said if he wasn't too busy putting his back into a corner and covering his entire face with his bangs.

"Trowa," Quatre yell-hissed. "You're drawing attention."

Trowa was of the opinion that one, Quatre's afro—how in the hell he got his hair to do that in two minutes was a miracle of physics—was drawing more attention than a gundam self destructing would, and two, there was no way in _hell_ he was taking his trench coat off until he was safely locked in the bathroom at the safehouse, by himself, after having swept the place for electronic surveillance.

"Trowa." Oh _hell_ , it was the do-it-or-no-sex-for-a-month voice. Which is how Quatre got him into this stupid outfit in the first place. But that was back in their bedroom, where he had the disadvantage of a mostly naked Quatre and a few mind-blowing kisses to convince him to do what no sane man would do. He wasn't going to fall for it this time. Not here. No way. "Trowa," Quatre purred, his low, seductive voice easily heard over the 110 plus decibel music. Then Quatre brushed back his bangs and kissed him long and hard and that's exactly what could describe what was suddenly in his pants. "Trowa," Quatre purred again, this time sounding completely satisfied. He smiled and handed a leather trench coat that looked suspiciously like his own over to the coat check girl who was staring at him like a gape-mouthed catfish that someone had just brained with a brick.

He closed his eyes. Yes, that was air blowing over his bare butt cheeks.

He tried, in vain, to once more adjust the tight leather pants to cover more of his rear end, but the cut outs over each cheek made that impossible. He yanked at the leather straps that met at a large, steel ring in the center of his chest, rattling the chains dangling from it, but they didn't suddenly grow into a real shirt. He felt like a slut. A cheap-Freddy-Mercury-cheezy-San-Francisco-gay-biker-bar knock-off slut. Quatre's eyes gleamed as they traveled over his body. Trowa crossed his arms over himself, scrunched down, and sighed. Well, at least he wasn't wearing rainbow colored suspenders, rainbow striped socks, and a blonde afro.

His modesty was abruptly saved when a yell went up from the dance floor. Duo stood in the center, ringed by cheering people, his body poised, one hand in the air, finger pointing to the sky, face down, hip shot, with a foot catching the beat. K.C. and the Sunshine Band were yowling that, that's they way they liked it, uh huh, uh huh, and suddenly Duo was in motion, hips moving, finger stabbing toward the floor. His angel suit flared around him as he spun and shook his butt. Not everyone could pull off the white polyester with a black satin shirt open to the navel. Duo didn't. John Travolta didn't. Actually, he didn't think anyone could. Disco was so, so _stupid_. The redhead slithered up to dance around Duo, his finger stabbing in perfect counterpoint to Duo's. Trowa decided, once again, that he _hated_ disco.

He watched Quatre do the Hustle briefly with a cocktail waitress on his way to the floor where Duo was and took the opportunity to infiltrate the coatroom and bundle himself back into his trench coat before following.

Oh look. Heero.

.

_A few minutes later, on the dance floor...._

.

The DJ, a rather plump man with a perm, plaid suit, and lapel points that reached his arm pits, shook his booty and grabbed the mic descending from the ceiling. The floor, a lighted affair cut into squares of various pastel hues in a geometric pattern, had been cleared completely. Heero stood in one corner, fists clenched, and Red stood in the other, sneering.

"Oh, my folks!" howled the DJ. The crowd cheered back.

"Please don't do this," Trowa hissed in his ear.

Heero snorted. "I can take this guy."

"It's not that!" Trowa moved to Heero's other side to keep Quatre's hands from sneaking his coat off again. "You shouldn't do this because it's so incredibly _lame_."

Lame? That sounded like a bad thing. He palmed both .50AEs to calm himself down and shot a look to his baka, who stood nearby looking worried beneath his irritation.

"Tonight!" the DJ yelled, "our very own Dancing Disco Rick is being called out by the new guy, Zero!"

"It's Heero!" Quatre yelled back.

"Right back atcha, buddy. So folks, if you gotta pair of sunglasses, I'd put 'em on because I got a feeling that these two are gonna _light it up_!"

The crowed cheered. Heero frowned. Light it up? But he hadn't brought along explosives.

The DJ bounced to the DJ booth and dropped the needle on the record. "All right, settle down everybody. You know the rules. Keep it safe, keep it sexy and above all, _turn up the night_!"

Turn up the night? How was he supposed to do that? He shot a questioning look to Quatre, who only smiled at him tightly before sidling up to Trowa to mess with the buttons on his trench coat.

" _Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother, You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive._ "

"Well all right now, Dancing Disco Rick is getting warmed up here. What's he gonna bring out for the appetizer course?"

Dancing Disco Rick waved an arm in clockwise circles over his head, his hips moving around counterclockwise. He didn't look nearly as good as his baka did. He twisted his body this way and that way, feet flicking out with each forward step, one hand going in front of the other as if he were pulling himself forward with a rope. Heero could not see a purpose in this maneuver. It gained him ground, but expended unnecessary energy and left him open to even the most negligent flank attack.

" _Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin', And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive._ "

"Oh, it's a little hand-over-hand tuggle, man, right into the center of the floor! And that's all he's giving him!"

Dancing Disco Rick brought an end to this senseless activity by executing a 360 degree spin, throwing both arms behind his head, as if he were planning on doing french curls with a dumbbell, and thrust his pelvis in Heero's direction. Dancing Disco Rick lifted his lip and jerked his chin up in contempt before jiggling his way from the floor.

"That's a bucketful of confidence, right there, man!"

" _Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive, Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive._ "

The smiling crowd turned to Heero suddenly and he scowled back at them suspiciously.

" _Well now, I get low and I get high, And if I can't get either, I really try._ "

"Over to the new guy, Heero."

Quatre put both hands on the small of his back and shoved, propelling him into the center of the dance floor. He blinked again on the downbeat, dropping instantly into a crouch to defend himself should any of the yelling people surrounding him suddenly decide to jump him.

" _Got the wings of heaven on my shoes, I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose._ "

"This guy could be trouble."

The crowd cheered and he drew both .50AEs, jiggling to the right to put both the DJ and Dancing Disco Rick into his line of fire. The crowd roared its approval. Should he shoot? He jigged left when he got too close to the edge of the floor and a woman in corduroy pants and a gold lame top squealed in his ear and reached for the spandex.

" _You know it's all right, it's okay, I'll live to see another day_."

"It's the Wild West, man, those are six-guns full of sexy! It's the good, the bad, and the groovy."

Groovy? That sounded painful. Trowa had his face buried in his hand and was shaking his head. Heero decided that he wanted nothing to do with this _groovy_. He zig-zagged, to throw off enemy fire, back to his allies, and holstered his guns. He flicked his eyes toward his not-princess, to see what he thought of all this, and was shocked to see Duo eyeing him with approval and, was that lust? He shot a helpless glance toward Quatre and found him smiling happily and nodding.

" _We can try to understand, The New York time's effect on man._ "

"One, two, three, four, we've got a disco war, folks!"

Dancing Disco Rick had worked his way back to the center of the floor again, double jigging from foot to foot, his fists doing this funny sort of circular motion, as if he were working a boxing speed bag at gut level instead of above his head which was ridiculous. The speed bag was designed to train hand-eye coordination, in particular when aiming punches; attempting to do so at gut level was silly.

" _Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother, You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive._ "

"Dancing Disco Rick's going, 'I don't like you, but I respect your moves.'"

Dancing Disco Rick had changed from his badly executed training techniques to something more incomprehensible that left him extremely vulnerable to attack from any side. He had his left hand in his hair, over his ear, and his right hand slapped at his right hip in time to the beat. He had one leg in the air, bent at the knee, and his body was twisting and writhing as he turned in a circle on one foot. Heero was intensely grateful that Baron J had never exposed him to this sort of combat training.

" _Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin', And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive._ "

"And here's Heero, again."

Quatre shoved him onto the floor again, hissing in his ear, "Pretend you're driving a truck!"

What? He twisted around uneasily, looking at the crowd. The were yelling and screaming. Dancing Disco Rick was sneering. His baka was looking at him with a sort of mix of interest, annoyance, and growing wonder. Pretend to drive a truck? He put his hand out in front of him, as if gripping a wheel. His baka nodded, just a little, as if he couldn't help himself, and appeared to be pleased with Heero. He twisted the imaginary wheel and pretended to shift gears with the other hand It was difficult to work his feet as if he were popping a clutch because, generally speaking, one sat while driving. Additionally, gears were shifted at certain RPM ranges and he had difficulties judging which gear to choose on an imaginary engine. He peeked over at his baka again to see nothing but approval in his eyes.

" _Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive, Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive_."

"Driving that disco big rig! Shift gears, blow your funky horn!"

Horn? The newer model 18-wheeler tractors had both the air horn and street horn on the steering column, but the old, disco era air horns were triggered by a cord running along the interior roof of the cab. He reached up and pretended to pull the cord for an air horn. His baka burst into a delighted smile. He jiggled his hips, just a little, like he'd seen his baka and Dancing Disco Rick do, and watched his baka jump up and down, clapping in delight.

" _Life goin' nowhere, somebody help me, Somebody help me, yeah._ "

"Pull into the truck stop and get yourself some scrapple made out of sexy."

Dancing Disco Rick bounced onto the floor, doing the speed bag move again, this time at chest height. Heero fell back automatically, preparing to defend himself. He made a mental note to carry a .22 with him in case he required a caliber that didn't have enough power to pass through a single target and create collateral damages.

" _Life goin' nowhere, somebody help me, Somebody help me, yeah, stayin' alive._ "

"Dancing Disco Rick brings it right back and he's not wasting any time, folks."

Dancing Disco Rick was doing something that reminded him of the one time Baron J had piloted a Gundam. The movements, while in point with the beat, were jerky and slow. There weren't many of them and they had no dexterity. For some reason, Duo seemed impressed with this. Heero abruptly decided that Dancing Disco Rick would be less impressive if a few of his joints were no longer operational..

" _Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk._ "

"From the future of 1984, that's a funky disco robot."

Heero cracked his knuckles and slowly crossed to the center of the floor, putting his left foot down with each downbeat in the music like he would with any cadence-called march. The crowd roared its approval and Duo was back to smiling at _him_ instead of at Dancing Disco Rick. Dancing Disco Rick grinned ferally and jigged toward him. They circled each other warily, Dancing Disco Rick with his palms up and pelvis shaking obscenely, Heero fitting his _tai sabaki_ , body motion, into the beat.

" _Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around, Since I was born._ "

"They're both on the floor, man, eye to eye. It's disco Vietnam!"

His eyes locked with Dancing Disco Rick's as they circled like a pair of dogs fighting over a mate, Heero's mate to be specific. Dancing Disco Rick might have the advantage of experience with disco dancing, but Heero would not lose, not to this man. Not ever. Dancing Disco Rick was going down. Ninmu ryoukai.

" _And now it's all right, it's okay, And you may look the other way._ "

"Neither one's blinking, neither one's backing down. Let's see what happens."

Dancing Disco Rick jumped from foot to foot, arms moving in a semi-complex pattern, his eyes intent on Heero's, his mouth open contemptuously as he sucked air. It was nothing for a trained soldier like Heero to match his movements and then improvise a few of his own. Yoko geri. A kick to the side. Migi tsuki. Punch to the right. Hidari tsuki. Punch to the left. Shomen uchi and mune tsuki. Overhead strike followed by a quick punch to the abdomen. All of these were perfectly executed, in time to the downbeat, accompanied by a few extraneous movements of his feet, and none of them actually touching Dancing Disco Rick, who resorted to flat handed pulled swings when he couldn't keep up. Heero threw an open fisted punch that slammed the heel of his hand to a halt centimeters from Dancing Disco Rick's nose.

" _We can try to understand, The New York time's effect on man._ "

"Oooh, angry cat! Kitten has claws!"

Dancing Disco Rick bounded back glaring and Heero stood there, fingers flexing furiously.

"And it looks like it's over folks! Remember, we've got 50 cent Harvey Wallbang—!"

Someone grabbed the back of the spandex, palming his right buttock. He leaped forward, clearing at least ten feet and pivoting in the air to land in a crouch, poised and ready. The crowd roared.

"Dy-no-mite! Heero's taking it over the line!"

The DJ came through the crowd and grabbed the mic. "Who-hu-hu-ho! Yeah! How about that? Very sexy, very macho."

Heero reflexively palmed both .50AEs.

"But you know what, that's a little too close to call. We'll have to depend on our patented Disco Inferno Applause-O-Meter. So let's bring out our combatants, folk, come on, big hand for them!"

Behind his left shoulder, his baka was suddenly jumping up and down and screaming. Heero immediately pivoted and did a visual examination to find the injury that made his baka scream, but saw nothing but a happily shining face and yells of joy. Yells that were _his_ name. Cheering _him_ on. _His_ baka was cheering for _him_.

"First off, over to my man, Dancing Disco Rick!"

Duo gave Dancing Disco Rick the one fingered salute, followed closely by pulling his lower eyelid down and sticking out his tongue. There was a smattering of desultory applause and some guy yelled something about goats and Rick.

"And over to the new guy, Heero."

Duo led the wild, chaotic cheering. The crowd roared, chanting Heero's name.

"Folks, this is pretty close. I hate to do this but I gotta give to my man Danci—"

Heero pulled out his right hand .50AE.

"Eeep! Um. I gotta give it to the new guy, Heero!"

The crowd shrieked its approval. Duo bounded onto the stage and hugged his waist, laughing in delight. Dancing Disco Rick looked outraged. Heero holstered his .50AE and grinned.

Dancing Disco Rick took one look at that grin, turned as white as his baka's pants, swallowed reflexively, and pushed his way through the crowd to the bathroom.

Trowa looked at Quatre, lifted his bangs out of both eyes, and blinked. "Did _Heero_ just win a _disco dancing_ battle?"

.

_Twenty minutes later...._

.

Heero decided that he liked this dancing business. It certainly didn't hurt that his baka was in awe of his dancing skills, whatever they were. He was wrapped around his baka, his baka's head on his shoulder, his left .50AE clutched comfortably in his hand, swaying gently to the beat, with their bodies plastered together by friction from top to bottom. He leaned his cheek against his baka's head and watched Quatre try to trick Trowa out of his trench coat again. Next time he danced with his baka, he'd do it when they were alone so he could give into the temptation to strip his baka naked.

Duo pulled back a little and smiled up at him. Sparklies from the mirrored ball over the dance floor hovered around his face. Fingers traced his cheek for a moment. "I have to go to the bathroom."

He nodded once, curtly, and put his hands on the butts of his .50AEs to wait for his baka to return.

Fifteen minutes later, he was getting impatient. How long did it take a man to urinate? Even factoring in the difficulties in removing and redressing tight, polyester pants, his baka should have been finished five minutes ago. He scratched his chin with the barrel of his right hand .50 AE and narrowed his eyes in the direction of the latrines. A bloodcurdling shriek came from the men's latrine. Duo! Heero vaulted through the crowd, exploding into the bathroom just in time to see _his_ baka pinned between two men while a third used his braid to force his face up toward a disgustingly slobbery kiss. Heero roared in rage. Moments later, the man exploded through the door and bounced off the wall. He slumped, obviously unconscious, to the floor. The second man went flying through the now broken door, howling in protest before crashing, head first, into the wall and falling, unconscious, onto the first one. The final man tottered backwards to land in the heap of drunken would-be rapists, propelled by a beautifully executed uppercut.

"I'm the fucking kick ass princess of the Sweeper kingdom," his not-princess roared, shaking his fist. "And don't you fuckin' forget it, you bastards!"

Heero stood, off to the side, eyes wide, both .50 AEs dangling uselessly from his fingers, and the front of his spandex twitching. Wow. His baka was, he was, great. Magnificent.

Duo turned, hands on hips, and glared at him. "What?"

Heero grinned slowly.

His baka's eyes dropped to the spandex, blinked, then met his gaze again, his mouth a perfectly round 'o' of shock.

Heero holstered the .50AEs and licked his lips.

His baka blinked and shook himself. "No."

Heero glared. "Yes."

"Not here. It's gross."

"Don't care."

"I do!"

Heero stalked forward.

Duo backed up. "Yuy! Knock it off!"

"The manuals mentioned an activity annotated as _quickie_. I would like to try this."

"Not in the men's room at a disco joint!"

Heero sank a hand into the front of Duo's polyester pants.

"Well, maybe just a—wait, what am I saying. Heero, no. Not here."

"Then where?"

"Home. We'll go home."

He could go home and strip his baka naked and keep him that way. Acceptable. "Ninmu ryoukai."

"Wha—?"

He squeezed his baka's cock. "Home. Naked. Now."

Duo grinned. "I just gotta love a man of few words."

.

_Back at the safehouse...._

.

They hadn't made it much further than the middle of the stairs, leaving behind a trail of white polyester and black satin. Heero didn't really care, either. His baka was beneath him, naked, kissing him and being naked and kissing him and every once in a while would remember that they were on their way to the bedroom and would scoot that _very_ cute butt up another step and that would thrust his erection against Heero's naked belly and Heero would just have to start sticking his tongue and his fingers inside of his baka all over again and his baka would moan and thrust—oh yes, thrust was _goood_ —and he would have to taste that moan all over—

The front door slammed open, crashing into the wall and bouncing back.

—again so he would twist his fingers and his baka would—

"Yuy!" Wufei roared. "I will have my justice!"

Slightly confused as to what justice had to do with finding the spot inside of his baka that made him say interesting cuss words at the top of his lungs, Heero lifted his head and glared.

Wufei waddled forward slowly, his legs spraddled wide enough to drive a truck through, one hand holding the back of his pants away from his rump.

His baka snickered.

He frowned, decided that Wufei's justice had nothing to do with that wonderful spot inside of his baka that required his attention, and dropped his mouth back onto his baka's.

"Yuy! You unjust, dishonorable cur! I will have justice!" Wufei then stabbed him in his left butt cheek with a spork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The direct quotation and minor paraphrasing when Heero is, er, let's call it _fighting_ because the truth is painful is from the movie "Starsky  & Hutch". The narrative prose is mine, most of the dialogue is not. This situation is intended as a Gundam Wing parody.


	22. The Injustice of Happy Whacky

Heero glared at the chair cushion and the upholstery bubbled and melted. Duo's fingers touched his left butt cheek and he flinched. "Wufei! Omae o korosu!"

Quatre, perched at the edge of the loveseat, wrung a limp hanky between his fingers. "Now Heero—"

Wufei smirked, his eyes rolling comfortably over Heero's naked self, bent over the arm of a chair. "I love the smell of justice in the evening. It smells like...victory."

Heero decided that ally or no, he was gonna kill Wufei. Right that instant. Duo smacked him on the right butt cheek. "Heero, hold still. I can't find the stupid thing if you keep wiggling."

His eyes darted over to where Trowa, now dressed in sweat pants, a heavy pullover sweat shirt, and a safe distance from Quatre, held his guns.

Duo smacked him on the right butt cheek again. "Forget it, Mr. Perfect Ass, you even think about it again and you're playing happy whacky for a week."

Heero frowned. Ha—

"What in the name of Justice is _happy whacky_?" Wufei demanded.

Heero pretended he knew what _happy whacky_ might be and smirked knowingly at Wufei. Wufei glowered at him. As Duo often said when he got the better of Wufei, sweet.

He could feel his baka's grin against his backside. Maybe that was just his breath. "You know, arm wrestle your one-eyed vessel. Audition your hand puppet. Do the backstroke roulette. Beat the bishop. Bleed the weed. Bop the bologna. Buff the banana. Burp the worm. Butter the corn. Call the secret service. Choke the sheriff and wait for the posse to come."

Trowa snorted and dropped the guns. They landed on the couch, so Heero didn't have to choke the Trowa.

"Clamp the pipe. Clean your rifle. Play closet frisbee. Comb the hair on your bald pig Sally. Consult your silent partner. Corral your tadpole. Cuddle the kielbasa. Cuff the carrot. Defrost the fridge. Eat grapes with the one armed man. Elect the president. Exercise your right to privacy. Fasten the chin strap on your helmet of love. Feed bologna to the smurfs. Fire the pound gun. Fish with dynamite. Fist your mister. Fuzz your fez."

His baka poked at his butt again, in the middle and nowhere near where the plastic spork tine had broken off. Heero turned and glared over his shoulder. His baka ignored him.

"Flog the log. Free Willy. Frost your pastries. Fry up your corndog. Gallop the old lizard. Garden with your golden trowel. March your little soldier. Goose the gumbo. Grease the three legged cow. Hoist your own petard. Hold the sausage hostage. Hone the cone. Honk your horn. Hose the driveway. Hug the hog. Jack your hammer. Jerk your gherkin. Liquidate your inventory. Lope your mule. Love your Muppet. Make instant pudding. Make your bald guy puke. Mangle the midget. Manipulate the mango. Milk the moose. Mount a corporal and four."

Quatre was turning a funny shade of pink, one that nearly clashed with his shirt. Trowa had given up any semblance of decorum and was sitting on the floor, arms clutched over his middle, strangling himself on his swallowed giggles. His baka prodded his left butt cheek again and hummed in an intelligent manner.

"Null the void. Oil the glove. Play in the one man band. Paddle the pickle. Paint the ceiling. Peel your banana. Pet the lizard. Play tag with the pink torpedo. Plug your toaster. Polish the rocket. Pound your flounder. Pound the bald headed moose. Pull the bologna pony. Pump the python. Punch the munchkin. Ram the ham. Relish your hotdog. Rub Buddha's tummy. Sail the mayonnaise seas. Salute the general. Sample your secret sauce. Shake the snake. Shellac the shillelagh. Slap the purple-headed yogurt pistol. Smite the pink knight. Spank your rooster. Squeeze the happy lumberjack. Taunt the one-eyed weasel. Tickle the taco. Toss your turkey. Tug the slug. Unleash the alabaster yak. Varnish your banister. Wax the carrot. Wiggle your walrus. Wrestle the eel. Wring out your rope. Yank your yo-yo. Zip the pink zebra." His baka yanked the piece of spork out of his butt. "You know, digital penile oscillation."

Heero gave up the pretense of having a clue. "Make sense, baka."

"Masturbate. Apply your palm to your penis and pound it."

"If ever you wondered, this is why I turned him down. I couldn't put up with _that_ ," Wufei muttered.

Quatre's eyes widened. "Wow, in alphabetical order, too."

"Mostly," Heero had to put in since Wufei was now smirking at him. Heero smirked back. "It takes a man of real strength to put up with _that_."

Wufei jumped to his feet, winced and carefully spread his legs a bit, then glared at Heero. "I am _not_ weak!"

Duo slapped him on the ass. "I am not that bad!"

This pronouncement sent Trowa off into fresh giggles. Quatre tried to force the smile from his face and ended up looking something like a carp licking lemon juice.

"Yuy! You will not insinuate this injustice!"

"Wu-stud is horny!" Duo howled.

"Injustice!"

"Strength." Heero smirked as infuriatingly as he knew how. "Some of us have it. Some of us don't."

"I am _not_ weak!" Wufei screeched.

Heero let go with a self-satisfied expression and chalked himself a win.

"I can and have tolerated the idiot for far longer than you!"

Heero snorted in disdain. "I married the idiot. Voluntarily."

"That does not make you a stronger man; it simply makes you a stupid one!" Wufei snarled.

Heero glowered. "Of course you would say that. You don't have the inner strength to tolerate the baka."

"Inner strength? Is that what they're calling psychosis these days?"

"Call it what you will, Chang. The simple fact is that I married the idiot because I am a strong enough man to handle him. You, sadly, are not."

Wufei shrieked and ripped his spork out of his pocket, the two intact tines gleaming in the over head light.

Heero stood up and clenched his fists.

"The _idiot_ is going to bed. _Alone_." Duo stomped to the foot of the stairs and glared at Heero. "I hope you like Internet porn 'cause that's all you're getting! You're cut off!"

"Nooooooooo!" Heero hadn't realized he screamed out loud until Quatre patted him on the back, murmuring gentle words of consolation and Wufei collapsed on the couch, laughing like a bow-legged hyena.

.

_In Duo & Heero's room in the safehouse...._

.

The room was dark, illuminated only by the pallid glow from the laptop screen, the moonlight slanting in from the window, and a small, bedside lamp that cast the surroundings with a golden aura. One boy lounged in a bed, silently flipping through a doujinshi prominently featuring improbable sexual acts between two big-eyed bishounen. The other sat before the laptop, glaring at whatever he had immersed himself in, and typed away as if nothing else existed in this world.

The boy on the bed slapped the doujinshi shut, the loud clap of pages like a gunshot in the mostly quiet room. He stretched luxuriously on the bed, arching and twisting to show his studiously semi-naked form off to its best advantage. If only the other boy would look at him. Those blue eyes, narrowed in concentration, didn't so much as flicker in his direction. He pouted and ran his hand down his bare chest to slide past the waistband of his boxers. He scratched lightly at an itch just above his twitching need and groaned a bit more than the sensation called for. Peeking through his bangs, he frowned. No reaction.

He slipped from the bed and stretched again, just in case he was surreptitiously being watched, then got down on his hands and knees and stuck his head under the bed. He knew that this position highlighted his ass perfectly. It stuck in the air, wiggling as he shifted through the boxes beneath the bed, the soft cotton of the boxer shorts pulled tautly to paint every curve of his buttocks in pale blue. Did the typing stop? He wiggled a little more and listened carefully. Yes! He spread his legs a little wider and pressed forward a bit more. A gasp. Yes!!

He grabbed a doujinshi at random and proceeded to extract himself from beneath the bed with as much writhing and squirming as he could realistically put into it. He peeked through his bangs again. Dammit. At that moment he hated that laptop more than anything else in the entire universe. _He_ should have his lover's attention, not that thrice-damned piece of computer slop. Grunting in irritation, he threw himself onto the bed on his belly and flipped through the doujinshi. It was some yuri thing that he had no interest in. He didn't even _like_ doujinshi. He dropped it on the floor, loudly, in frustration and picked up the latest _Soldier of Fortune_ to flip through. He smothered a smirk as the typing faltered to a halt, then wriggled his hips comfortably into the bed. A little bit of back arch to bring out the curving slope of his butt and.... Perfect. He could feel those beautiful eyes faithfully boring into his rump. He canted his head a bit, to lengthen the profile of his neck and nibbled a little on his bottom lip. Forcing himself to ignore the intriguing article on the AR-15 reprinted from ammo-oracle.com that he was trying not to read, he bent his legs at the knees and casually swung his feet back and forth over his hips. The other boy's slight groan was quickly smothered by a grunt of annoyance. Then the typing started back up.

Dammit! This was war. He would _not_ be ignored, not for a stupid laptop. The beautiful boy glaring so adorably at the screen had stolen his hea—

Oooh. _M855 and M856 are newer rounds developed in the late 1970s by Fabrique Nationale (FN) of Belgium. FN was developing a new 5.56mm belt-fed machine gun they called the "Minimi" (Mini-Machinegun) for entry into the US military's Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW) program. The SAW was to augment, and in many cases replace, the 7.62×51mm M60 made by—_

No! He ripped his eyes away from the magazine and stared at the hauntingly gorgeous profile of the wonderful boy across the room. Beneath those unruly bangs and intense eyes, his perfectly formed cheeks sloped gently to generous, pink lips that were pursed in concentration. To have all of that passionate intensity and concentration turned on _him_.... But how? How could he approach the beauteous boy of his dreams and tell him of his love and desire without making an idiot out of himself? Or worse, making that magnificent boy hate him? His gaze dropped back to the article when the tears threatened to spill.

_—Saco Defense (now part of the General Dynamics Armament Division). Because there was a lot of resistance to giving up larger, longer-range round of the M60, FN focused on making the SAW perform better at longer ranges than existing 5.56 platforms (i.e., the M16). They did this primarily by developing new bullets: the SS-109 "ball" round and the L-110 tracer._

Hn. He didn't particularly like or dislike the 5.56 platform. While it did well for general purpose semi- and full-auto fire in combat situations, he preferred large caliber semi-auto platforms for short range control and bolt action platforms for long-range. The AR-15, while a versatile weapon, didn't have the short-range control of a pistol nor the long-range accuracy of a properly maintained bolt action. However, in the machine gun application, the 5.56 out performed the 7.62x51mm in his estimation. Several of the older veterans had disagreed with this assessment since the 7.62x51mm had stronger impact. He had yet to try the SS-109.

The typing paused and the object of his desires grunted, shifting in his seat. The boy of his fantasies was doing something that sounded vaguely like scratching now, but—

Oooh. _The SS-109 bullet uses a "compound" core, with a lead base topped by a steel penetrator, all covered in a gilding-metal (copper alloy) jacket. The L-110 tracer bullet has a copper-plated steel jacket and like all tracer bullets, is hollowed out at the base and filled with tracing—_

No! Dammit. He had better control than that. He had to concentrate on his mission, not on distractions. Ballistics information on weapons and ammunition he would most likely face in nearly any given combat situation had nothing to do with his mission and the distraction would _not_ be tolerated. Nothing would come between him and completing a mission. No distractions. Mission.

His eyes narrowed as he watched his baka scratch his ear, hit the delete key a few times, and then start typing again. He would complete his mission. "Ninmu ryoukai."

His baka looked up from the laptop, eyes wide, and blinked.

.

_Thirty minutes later...._

.

Duo growled under his breath and put his hands flat on the headboard. It whacked the wall rhythmically, but at least he wasn't sliding face first into it now. Whoever had thought satin sheets would be _romantic_ obviously didn't understand the need for friction. His knees started sliding back and apart awkwardly. He scrambled to get them back under him just has Heero reached around his belly to grab him and suddenly he really didn't care that he was about to land flat on the bed with his face relentlessly pounded into the slab of oak that was currently putting holes in the wall with each thrust.

.

_Two hours later...._

.

His braid, half undone, trailed over the edge of the bed, where his head rested precariously, and smacked on the floor. He threaded his fingers through Heero's unruly hair and arched his back, sliding that much closer to the edge. He could feel the smirk against the very tip and then lips wetly sliding down to the base and suddenly he really didn't care that he was about to do a half-gainer from the mattress to the floor.

.

_Three hours later...._

.

His hands were flat on the floor, the satin sheets tangled up with his wrists and forearms. His knees were on the bed still, somehow, and his bangs were stuck to his face with sweat. Heero somehow managed to lift his right leg—or was it his left leg? he couldn't tell with all of the blood rushing to his head—up and out of the way without breaking rhythm or sending them tumbling off the bed completely. Strong, calloused fingers reached between his legs to wrap around him and tug and suddenly he really didn't care that he was about to face-plant into the satin covered parquet.

.

_Four hours later...._

.

He was on his side, the oak floor completely failing to conform to the non-flat nature of his body. Fortunately, he was laying on the satin sheets so he didn't get road rash as each snap of Heero's hips sent him scooting closer to the door. He gritted his teeth and thought about inventing aloe vera based lube. Heero's hand slipped down his belly and he _really_ wished that he had some aloe vera based lube and then those fingers found the perfect spot and suddenly he really didn't care that every erogenous zone below his neck was chafing something fierce.

.

_Five hours later...._

.

He was boneless, flat on his back, and staring muzzily at the ceiling. He didn't even notice the uncomfortable curvature difference between his spine and the floor. Heero crawled between his legs, nudging them apart, like a prowling tiger wearing a Mission I'm-gonna-fuck-my-dick-off accomplished expression. Heero growled, a very sexy growl he noted, and nuzzled up against his inner thigh. He was so far gone that he didn't notice which one. Heero's tongue slid out and lapped tenderly at his flesh and it felt so gentle that he wanted to hug the sensation to his heart for the rest of his life and suddenly really didn't care when the door crashed open and something demonic shrieked Heero's name.

.

_Five minutes later...._

.

"HeeeEEEEeeeeeeeEEEeeeEEEeeeeEEEEro!" Relena whimpered forlornly. Okay, called out forlornly. Well, she was forlorn.

Heero steadfastly ignored everything but his baka. His baka was sore, tired, and well ridden, if he did say so himself, and his current mission was to pamper his baka until it was time to go back to the honeymoon mission. He mentally reviewed the projected time frame on the average honeymoon mission then extended it from six weeks to a year. Perhaps a year wouldn't be long enough, six years? Yes, that sounded more reasonable.

"Heeeeeeeeeero!"

His baka twitched, just a little, in the right thigh at the whine. He twisted his face just a bit and soothed the spot with little kisses. He loved his baka's thighs, especially when they were wrapped around his hips, clenching and unclenching with each counter—

"You were supposed to marry my sister, not take up with this little whore! And a boy! Heeeeeeeero!"

The thigh twitched again and he gave it long, loving lick.

"That's disgusting! How can you lick another boy like that! Of all the cheap, gutter-rat, whore, yet strangely exciting things you can do with another boy! I want you to do it aga—I mean stop this instant. Heero Yuy, how _could_ you!?"

"Heero, if you're not going to shoot her, give me your gun."

"No, baka. No princess shooting."

Relena squealed and threw herself across Heero's back. "I _knew_ you loved me!"

He tossed her off with a casual sweep of an arm and turned back to his baka's thighs. She sprawled, shoving herself to a sitting position, and pouted at him. Hurt. Wounded. Big, blue eyes stared at him through a quivering of tears, a fall of blonde hair, and innocent girlish face.

_Nii-san, are you lost?_

He blinked.

_I've been lost all my life._

He blinked again, then shook his head. Right. Flashback. Horde. Confession of True Love speech. He blinked at his baka's well used genitalia. Love. He kissed his baka's well used genitalia gently. Yes, love.

Relena shrieked. "No! You can't be together. You're both boys and Heero loves _me_ and he saved my life and—" She paused, furrowing her brow and ticking something off on her fingers. "No, that's it; both boys, loves me, saved my life. Got it." Her face took up the shocked and pained expression. "Heero, you just _can't_!"

He licked his baka's cock.

Relena shrieked louder.

He smirked, briefly, then swallowed the hardening length of flesh whole.

Relena's shriek abruptly cut off as she dropped to the floor, her head cradled on his baka's belly, and her flying hair smacking him the face. He glared at the long golden strands and shoved the stuff off of his baka. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and moaned, as if in great pain.

Cough. Cough. "Ooohh." Cough. Cough. She shuddered. "Ya, ya got me, doc."

Heero blinked. Doc? Who was this doc? Was she ill?

Cough. Cough. She sucked in air, panting and gasping for breath between the choking coughs that wracked her body.

His eyes widened. She was so still, except for the quiet coughs that seemed to dominate her between the deep, shuddering breaths that seemed to hurt her more than help.

Twisting her head slightly, she looked toward Heero and coughed again. Her hand, trembling, reached slowly toward his face before weakly falling away. Cough. Cough. "Aaah." Cough.

Heero frowned. Her eyes were glazed and unable to focus. She coughed again, her limp frame shuddering from the force of it. He looked for any obvious injury, but found none. The alarm grew when she gasped for air and choked on it, coughing. She had internal injuries! He knew enough field first aid to get by in combat situations where wounds were usually external, but he could do nothing for her internal injuries.

"I, I can't believe it!" Cough. Cough. She reached again, this time her fingertips trailing momentarily over his cheek before she lost all strength and her hand fell, smacking his baka on the thigh.

Heero lifted himself a bit, putting a hand to her cheek to test for fever. She sucked in more air, panting noisily and coughing.

"Oh." Cough. She panted, her hand reaching toward the ceiling before it fell, twitching. "Oh, who turned off the lights?"

No! She was dying and he could do nothing to save her. He jerked himself over to kneel by her side, folding her hand in his. His baka had leaned himself up on his elbows and was watching her face with narrowed eyes, obviously concerned for her.

She offered him a trembling little smile before she gasped for more air and choked on it again, coughing. "Why is everything so dark?"

She panted, then coughed before falling limp, her head lolling lifelessly to the side.

" _Relena_ is _breathing_ on my dick. That is _so_ gross!"

He frowned at his baka.

His baka smiled at him. "I think she understands that you'n me are together now and she can't have you. Now we can be together forever, with no shame for our love and nothing will get in the way of our happiness because the evil obsessed one is no longer ignorant of what True Love looks like. She's still breathing on my dick. It's still gross. Get her off me, will ya?"

Gently, Heero moved her to the side. He checked her pulse and found it steady; she didn't move. She was breathing, too. He patted her cheeks gently; she didn't move. He slapped her; she didn't move.

His baka stood up and stretched, distracting him briefly. "C'mon, Hee-chan. Let's blow this place."

.

_Several hours later...._

.

Heero ground his teeth together and considered gagging his baka. And Wufei. Trowa and Quatre rode slightly behind the three of them, giggling and snickering every few minutes.

"Heero, my ass is killing me! It's not fair. Next time, I'm gonna fuck _you_ raw and see how _you_ like piloting your gundam with a sore ass!"

Wufei sniffed in disdain. "Quit whining like a weak onna, Maxwell. A real manly man would have no difficulties ignoring the _mild_ discomfort."

This sent his baka on a loud tirade that was mostly incomprehensible, but seemed to favor epithets, creative threats involving flavored lube and various domesticated animals, the minuscule sizing of various parts of Treize and Zechs' anatomies, the fact that Heero was "fucking hung", and something about a whoopee cushion. Deathscythe, noting that his pilot was distracted, took the opportunity to sidle up against Shenlong. Shenlong bounced a couple of steps before settling down.

"Ow!" Wufei bellowed. "Yuy! Kisama! You will _pay_ for this injustice! Ow!"

Heero gritted his teeth and told himself that he was not permitted to shoot his fellow pilots.

"Hah, who's the weak onna, now, Wu-stud?" His baka crowed. Deathscythe arched his neck a bit and pranced for Shenlong. "Owww! Heero, you asshole, this is all your fucking fault! You dick! My ass _hurts_!"

Heero frowned as something just occurred to him. His baka's ass was sore. "Does this mean we will not have sex tonight?"

Trowa fell off his horse, laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The direct quotation and minor paraphrasing when Relena Finds Out is from the cartoon short "A Wild Hare". The narrative prose is mine, most of the dialogue is not. This situation is intended as a Gundam Wing parody.


	23. We're Here and I Have To Pee

To say that Heero was in a pissy mood was an understatement. He was fucking furious. A week. An entire _week_. And part of a day. 176 hours, 35 minutes, to be exact, since he'd last had sex. His baka wouldn't touch him below the neck. Why? Because the vindictive little baka was still in a snit about riding to Peacemillion with a sore ass _and_ added a snit about riding to Peacemillion as a married not-princess, to boot. Whatever that meant.

He was supposed to be honeymooning. It was his mission. He had pointed this out to his baka more times than he could count—368—and had gotten laughed at. _Laughed_ at.

To make matters worse, Wufei was gloating over it. He had half a mind to honeymoon the hell out of Wufei, and would have if Quatre hadn't caught him about to do just that and pointed out that his baka would probably not like it very much. He had asked his baka shortly after that and had gotten a tirade that lasted 43 minutes, 28 seconds. He hadn't understood a word of it, but he'd come away from the experience with a mild case of tinnitus and the understanding that his baka didn't approve of his use of Wufei as a secondary honeymoon objective. Once his ears had stopped ringing, Trowa had given him a jealous look and called him a lucky bitch because Quatre was totally into monogamy and Wufei had stomped over and informed him that he would _not_ be joining them in a threesome when his baka was done with his sulk no matter what his baka said because he was Chang Wufei, Last of the Dragon Clan, and therefore was above such things. And then he'd squeezed Heero's ass before stomping off to sulk. Unfortunately, his baka had noticed the illicit ass-squeeze and gotten into a justice-rant match with Wufei, even though he was clearly outclassed.

Lunch break was finished quickly after that.

"We're all perverts," Quatre said with sigh when the remounted their gundams. "Poor Wufei is the one that's stuck in denial. I can't tell if that's worse than being the sweet, blushing innocent or not."

Heero blinked, confused. Quatre was unable to answer because, conveniently, they arrived at Peacemillion in time to halt any uncomfortable conversations at an edge-of-your-seat cliff-hanger stopping point.

Quatre frowned. "But I quit talking five minutes ago."

They arrived at Peacemillion in time to halt any uncomfortable conversations at an _edge-of-your-seat cliff-hanger stopping point._

Quatre shook his head. "Whatever. We're here and I have to pee."

Heero glared at the closed drawbridge. Not again.

"This is pointless!" Wufei roared. "They will not permit is to enter so long as that long-haired nuisance is with us!"

Duo clutched at his stomach and laughed.

Trowa sighed, then rummaged through a saddle-bag. "Oh my," he said. It sounded curiously stilted, each word given the exact same inflective weight no matter its location in the sentence and a long breathy pause between. "We seem to be out of food. Oh yes. I recall, we ate the last of the food and the last of the dessert when we stopped at that lovely stream hours and hours ago and had lunch. Oh no. We will starve if we don't get any food. Because we are out of food!"

Duo whiplashed around to stare at Trowa in horror. "Out of food?"

"Yes. We are out of food. Oh no. Oh my."

Duo shrieked, "Nooooo!"

"If only we could get into the castle, we could have dessert," Trowa went on.

Heero frowned. Why was he putting a pause between each word? He sounded like an idiot who was pretending to be someone else and failing miserably.

Duo leaped to his feet and shook his fist at the battlements. Beneath him, Deathscythe heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I'll get us in!"

And then he dove into the moat.

Wonderful, now his baka was going to smell like a wet dog.

Five minutes later, their was a great deal of screaming coming from the battlements and the guards began running to and fro for no readily apparent reason. One of the, the one with his butt on fire, jumped into the moat. Immediately after he splashed, his baka, from inside the walls, bellowed, "Belly buster!" and then the drawbridge crashed down and the portcullis shot up.

Heero mentally pencilled in "bathe baka" prior to "uncap lube, spread on fingers."

"Dessert, here I come!" his baka shrieked.

Heero frowned. The manuals had mentioned a position known as "doggy style", though he couldn't recall the bodily logistics at the moment. Perhaps that position was designed to ease the wet dog odors that might emanate from a baka that jumped into the moat?

"Shit! Fuck!" his baka screamed. "Heero, help! Ouch! Knock it off! Leggo the hair! Hey, there's precious cargo in those pants, watch what you're owwww!"

Heero put spurs to Wing and charged into the castle with the others hot on his heels. There, in the midst of a boiling froth of hair and skirts, Duo was being overrun by the Horde.

"You bitch!" Duo bellowed, swinging his fists. Heero took a moment to admire his technique before leaping from Wing into the middle of the fray.

Wufei watched in utter astonishment as that braided idiot was overwhelmed and dragged off by a set of squealing onnas, and then _Yuy_ was likewise brought down low and carried off. "Kisama!" Wufei roared. "It is injustice! How can mere, weakling onnas control that idiot where I could not!"

.

_Two hours later...._

.

"Gods!" His baka yelled before throwing himself onto his usual seat at the dinner table and, incidentally, Heero's lap.

Heero blinked and scooted out from beneath his baka to sit next to him. "You're polytheistic?"

"Huh?"

He glared at the purple haired girl across the table and wrapped his baka's braid around his forearm. "Polytheism is the practice of worshipping multiple deities."

Duo glared at him. "I knew that. What brought that on?"

"You yelled 'Gods!' for no discernable reason."

"Oh. I'm not really theistic, but if I were, logically I'd be monotheistic. I was only exposed to Catholicism as a child, actually, and later, when I met Quatre and the Maganacs, I learned things about Islam. I'm pretty much unfamiliar with anything polytheistic other than what I've picked up here and there on a more academic sort of level." Duo frowned thoughtfully and idly scratched his balls.

"So why did you shout 'Gods'?"

His baka blinked at him. "I would think that would be fucking obvious, _Yuy_. I'm wearing a fucking dress again! At least _you're_ wearing pants!"

He looked down at his legs and glowered. "I'm wearing tights and _pantaloons_. I look ridiculous. I am unable to satisfactorily perform combat." He glowered harder at his pantaloons and whispered the most heinous, embarrassing, and painful fact of all. "I can't find my guns."

Zechs, who had seated himself across from them, snickered.

His baka wrapped and arm around him. "I'll help you look for them after lunch, okay, babe?"

"Injustice!" Wufei shrieked from the doorway. "Injustice! Onnas are evil! They are the bane of the earth! Injustice!"

"Wonder what crawled up his ass _this_ time."

"Baka," Heero growled and tugged the not-princess closer. His baka was entirely too concerned with the interior of Wufei's posterior. He would rectify that error.

Wufei came to a halt, studiously ignored Zechs, and stared at Heero in horror "Gods, Yuy, what happened to _you_?"

Heero frowned. "You're polytheistic?"

Wufei snorted. "Polytheism has been historically prominent in China. From the beginning, there were many gods to be given respect and Taoism, a widespread religion brought about by Lao-Tzu, offered a path to follow that included the worship of multiple deities, both major and minor, so I could be conceivably be polytheistic, but I've been mostly likely to carry on about justice, Nataku, my ancestors, and women. Girls are icky."

Heero blinked. "Why did you shout 'Gods!', then?"

"Isn't it obvious, Yuy? You're wearing that ridiculous outfit. It is unbecoming a warrior of your stature. It shames me to have bested you in combat with my spork."

Heero's fingers instinctively curled around guns that weren't there and he cursed to himself. His baka narrowed his eyes and growled, "Don't fuck with my Heero, Wu-meister."

Wufei snorted again. "Yuy is dressed as ridiculously as a woman."

"That's it, you fucking asked for it."

Wufei laughed. "I had no idea you were such a versatile comedian."

Duo abruptly screamed like a girl. "Why, Wufei, you gorgeous man, you! Of _course_ I'll go for a walk with you!"

Heero decided that while he generally liked Wufei and admired his skills as a warrior, Wufei was going to have to die. Once he identified that curious rumbling he heard.

"I thought you'd never ask me out on a date, Wufei!" Duo yelled.

The squeals and snorts echoed through the hallway and into the war room.

"What injustice are you babbling about, Maxwell?" Wufei snarled. "And what is that noise?"

The Horde spilled into the room, charging to the table. "Date! Princess! Date!"

Duo batted his eyelashes at Wufei. "Oh, Wufei, you are so handsome and you saved me from the dragon the first time around!"

Heero moved his hands from where his guns should have been and picked up his knife. Wufei was a dead man.

"Knight! Date! Princess! Knight!" the Horde howled, milling around the table. One of them squealed and clapped her hands over her mouth. "Wufei looks _awful_!"

"Date! Date!" one of them howled. The rest of the Horde took up the cry.

"Back! Back, you evil onnas!" Wufei roared, flailing about with his spork. "Don't touch me! Get back!"

Duo smirked and sat down as the tide of the Horde washed over Wufei and dragged him off into the bowels of Peacemillion, yipping about hair styling products, velvet, and lace. "When I fucking say don't fucking fuck with Heero, I fucking mean don't fucking fuck with Heero."

Heero glared. "I'm the Knight, baka, I'm supposed to rescue _you_."

"Suffer."

"I suppose it's too much to hope that they'll put him in a dress," Zechs sighed. "Treize has a birthday coming up and Wufei would be a perfect gift."

Heero glowered. "You didn't have to ride back to Peacemillion with him."

"Perhaps not, but I was there when Treize ungagged him." Zechs frowned. "Perhaps I'd better go rescue him. I would like to get laid again sometime soon."

"Not to mention Howie and G are on their way in with Bionic Butt." Zechs was already on his way out. Duo grinned at Heero. Heero frowned. Duo frowned. "It was a joke, Hee-chan."

"It wasn't funny, baka. Baron J does not have bionic parts other than his limbs."

Duo looked somewhat queasy. "Do I even wanna know how you know this?"

"He played Annette Funicello in the barony's production of _Beach Blanket Bingo_ last spring. His costume was quite revealing."

"Okay, that's quite possibly worse than what I was thinking."

Heero grunted. "He was given critical acclaim for his performance. I did not have an acting mission in the production though it would have been an opportunity to test the acting skills I gained in my infiltration training. My mission for the production was to stand behind the critics and sharpen some knives that were to be used as props in case the director added a last minute fight scene."

"Oooohkay. Speak of Doctor Frankenfurter and it shows up. G, my main man, how's it hanging? Still scaring the local livestock off with it? Heya Howie-babe! You and the pscyho chick still playing patty cake?"

"Princess Duo," G said mournfully. "You're back."

Baron J seated himself in Zech's vacated spot. "Report 01."

So Heero did. At length. In monotone. Using simple sentences or less when possible. Everything. No, not just everything, but _everything_ , right on down to the color of underpants Duo was wearing beneath his dress when he had tossed Chivalry Boy off the parapet. King Howard was outright snoring by the end. King's Advisor G was playing the Klondike version of solitaire. Dorothy had braided two braids into her hair, one on each side, and had draped pink napkins over herself. She was alternately batting her eyelashes at him and snickering. His baka was staring at him with a mixture of indignation and glassy -eyed information overload. It was difficult to tell what Baron J was doing. "End report," Heero snapped. Total report time: three hours, seven minutes, fifty eight seconds.

"Oh my fucking God, I feel like I've had a pack of ferrets running amok in my brain," Dorothy muttered. She'd read it in an email recently from a lovely young woman and thought it applied rather well. So well, in fact, she said it again.

Baron J jerked, then nodded. "Mission status?"

"Ninmu kanryu."

"Goody!"

King's Advisor G slipped one of the face down cards out from beneath a row running from ten to four, then tossed it onto his discard pile. "Ninmu kanryu my fanny."

"And it's an ugly fanny," Baron J snarled.

"I have a marriage certificate signed by General Khushrenada," Heero pointed out.

"The dragon, boy," G said smugly. "You didn't mention it."

Heero blinked, confused.

"What about it?" Baron J demanded.

"Injustice!" Wufei bellowed. He was propelled into the room by several members of the Horde. They twittered. "Injustice! Injustice! Injustice!" He stamped his foot. It tinkled.

Duo hit the floor, laughing.

Heero couldn't help it. He smiled. His baka was adorable when convulsed in hysterics. Several members of the Horde noticed his smile, shrieked in abject terror, and ran like wildebeest pursued by a pack of rabid hyenas.

Wufei was _not_ amused. "Injustice!"

Wufei was wearing chartreuse tights that clung to his nicely formed legs. He was wearing royal blue shot with gold pantaloons that billowed around his thighs. His doublet was a rich wine color and he had a ruff of lace, roughly the size of a manhole cover, tied around his throat. He had a hat with an excruciatingly long feather on it. And bells on his feet.

"Oh my God, I can't _breathe_ ," Duo howled.

Alarmed, Heero dropped to his knees beside his baka and forcibly uncurled him. His baka was red in the face, with tears streaming down his cheeks, and his breath came in short, panting gasps. Even though mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was used when the victim was not actually breathing, Heero decided he would deliver pre-emptive first aid. His baka immediately quit laughing and tried to give _him_ mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Irritated, Heero stuck his tongue into his baka's mouth to stop him.

"Injustice!" Wufei bellowed.

"They're making out on the floor." Dorothy chortled.

Baron J turned his, er, glare? piqued curiosity? on the pair and harumphed.

"The dragon!" G yelled, slamming his fist into the table. "Did your boy kill the dragon or not?"

"Dragon? I should think not!" Wufei yelled back. "Such injustice is not to be borne!"

"Shut up, Injustice Boy," Dorothy muttered.

"We'll simply have to sacrifice Princess Duo to the dragon again," G said, sighing. "And hope that the next knight that shows up to rescue her has enough brains to _kill the dragon_!"

Wufei snorted. "I witnessed the consummation of the marriage. The idiot is no longer a virgin."

G narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure, boy?"

Wufei glared. "I am not in the habit of lying."

"Drat and damnation. We can't sacrifice Princess Relena since she is betrothed to Treize Khushrenada, we'll have to—"

"Princess Relena is _what_?"

G suddenly found himself shoved back against the back rest of his chair, something sharp pricking his throat, and an enraged Chang Wufei's glare promising instant death. "Er, she's engaged to Treize Khushrenada?"

"I _forbid_ this injustice! Treize Khushrenada is mine!"

G blinked and swallowed very slowly. "We have a marriage contract with him."

Wufei's black eyes glittered. "He will break it or he'll be cut off!"

"Spoken like a true bottom boy!" Duo crowed.

"Baka." Heero smacked him in the back of the head.

Zechs, who ever so conveniently happened by the scene just in time to effect a rescue for the Gundam pilot from enemy forces, said, "It's true, G. Treize will break the contract if Wufei tells him to. He doesn't like to be cut off." Smiling faintly, Zechs left the scene quickly for no particular reason.

"Is _everyone_ gay?" G demanded.

"Only bishounen. It's a law of physics," Baron J snapped. "It's immaterial. I want my half of the kingdom, _now_. The southern half, if you will. I fancy a nice vacation spot on the coast."

"I hear you play a mean Annette Funicello," Duo said between snickers.

Baron J beamed. At least it kind of looked like he did. "I do, indeed."

"Perhaps King Howard should adopt Chang," Dorothy said. "Then he can marry Khushrenada."

G smirked. "Then we can sacrifice Relena to the dragon since she's holding out for a Heero. What's one more irritating whelp around the place? Especially now that we're getting rid, er, especially now that Princess Duo will be leaving the bosom of her loving family to go live with her husband."

Baron J frowned. His goggle things gleamed in a frowny sort of way. "Absolutely not. Princess Duo will remain in the bosom of her loving family. 01 has a few missions coming up and he's not permitted to have any distractions."

Heero looked up from his baka's lap, which had done an amazing geographic metamorphosis in the last fifteen seconds, shortly after Heero had surreptitiously grabbed his cute butt. "Mission?"

Baron J's goggles did the frowny glinty thing again. "The Duchy of Romafellar has to be stopped. They intend to take over and institute total tyranny. The Barton Foundation has instituted Operation Meteor and you're going to be a part of it."

"Duo will be an asset to the mission."

"Distractions!"

Heero glared at the old man. "He is _my_ baka."

Baron J's frowny glinty goggle thing turned into more of a scowly glinty goggle thing. "She will be better off here."

"She's not staying here!" G yelled.

"Well, I don't want anything to do with either of you!" Duo yelled.

Heero yanked his baka into his lap. " _My_ baka! I married him. I promised to love, as is convenient—"

"Actually, Yuy, you skipped that part. You promised to love him," Wufei snapped. "You tied me to a chair and forced me to _watch_ this injustice, you will not weasel out of it now!"

Heero glared at Wufei. " _My_ baka! He goes with me."

"You mean that, Heero?" Duo asked softly, his huge purple eyes soft with hope.

"Of course, baka. You're mine."

Duo threw his arms around Heero and squeezed. He was saying something, but it was difficult to tell what, muffled as it was against Heero's neck.

"The baka is excellent at hand to hand combat, he is a master at escape and evasion, he has proven to be effective at infiltration of civilian venues, he is highly resistant to torture, and he has been well trained in the use of explosives by King's Advisor G. As his husband, it is my mission to manage and use my baka prudently. My recommendation is that we keep him."

Baron J's scowly glinty goggle thing subtly altered into a thoughtful glinty goggle thing.

"Oh, Heero! No one has ever wanted to keep me before!" Duo said from his neck.

"With good reason," G muttered.

"You're _my_ baka," Heero said as if that said it all.

"You are _so_ not going to regret this! I'll be the best ever! I can blow shit up better than anyone else! G gave me a recipe for some kick ass C-4, but I fiddled with it a little and can make a sweet little brew that'll blow up half of Mexico. I call it the Wufinator because it's kind of unstable and likes to go off for no good reason."

Heero looked at his baka fondly, as fondly as possible without actually adjusting facial expression. "Hn."

"Oh dear God," Baron J muttered. He could no longer do the glinty goggle thing because he pushed his face into the table and covered his head with his arms. "Why me?"

G smacked him. "You wanted the kingdom. Princess Duo is part of the deal. Get over it, you old goat."

Duo glared at Heero. "I _like_ calling it the Wufinator! I am _not_ calling it the Heeronator just to make you happy."

Heero glared back. "Hn."

"No, forget it. I'm not talking to you. See this? This is me not talking to you. You're a rotten selfish bastard and I don't know what I see in you. The Wufinator is _not_ stupid!"

"Hn."

Duo nuzzled into Heero's neck. "I love you, too."

"We don't have to convene Parliament, so as soon as I draw up the papers and King Howard signs them, Chang, you're family and you're betrothed to General Khushrenada." G frowned. "You can't be a princess, though. Princesses are girls, the dictionary is very clear about that."

Wufei blinked. " _Adopted_? Into _Maxwell's_ family?"

Heero smirked.

Wufei glared at G. "I do _not_ want to be related to that idiot!"

G blinked. "Which one?"

"All of them, but particularly _that_ one!" Wufei's finger stabbed toward Duo. Heero frowned.

Duo stuck his tongue out at Wufei. "But Wuffie, you know you love me. Besides you have such a _cute_ butt!"

Cute butt. His baka thought that Wufei had a _cute_ butt. Unacceptable. Heero gently set his baka aside, kissed his temple, then stood up. He lunged across the table and wrestled Wufei and his cute butt to the floor. Wufei snarled and lashed out, clipping Heero on the jaw, but he ignored it in favor of relentlessly de-cuteizing Wufei's butt.

Duo leaned back in his chair and smirked. Manage and use prudently. Fuckin' A.

.

_Three weeks later...._

.

Treize Khushrenada forced himself to stand at attention and not scowl at the cleric presiding over the wedding. He hadn't seen his bride since he'd arrive the day before and he couldn't say that he was displeased with this. Zechs had been unavailable last night, which was something of a mixed blessing. He'd missed his Zechs, of course, and was sure to make him forget about his mid-morning meeting with the Princess Relena But then, sometime in the dark, he'd thought he'd heard a cry of injustice tearing through Peacemillion and it had made him embarrassingly mopey for his dragon. When he left after the, ick, consummation of the wedding, the Princess Relena was staying _here_ and Zechs could damned well go with him back to Oz.

There was a shuffling and grunting in the back of the chapel for a moment. Someone yelled in fury. The orchestra abruptly began playing, well, something. After a measure everyone managed to get themselves on the same page and the wedding march nervously made its way through the crowded room. Something white and lacy flew through the doorway and bonked the conductor on the head.

Treize frowned. He hadn't remembered the Princess Relena as being quite so...feisty. Her obsession for Heero Yuy had made her rather dull and swoony.

"Kisamara! Onnas! Injustice!"

Treize blinked. Wufei?

Several of Peacemillion's ladies-in-waiting, yapping something about weddings, brides, and lace, dragged Wufei through the doorway. The audience stood and gaped. Treize found himself gaping as well.

Halfway down the aisle, Wufei managed to shake one of the ladies-in-waiting off, kicked another to the side, and slapped the remaining one in the face with a bouquet of white roses and baby's breath. He glared at them, straightened his white tunic, and threw any remaining white flower buds out of his hair. Wufei death glared at the left half of the audience. They silently shrank down into their seats. He turned his glare to the right half and they followed suit. Smirking, obviously intensely pleased with himself, Wufei strolled down the aisle to the dias.

Treize closed his mouth and smirked back.

"I will have my justice, tyrant!" Wufei roared at him.

And suddenly there was a sharp, biting pain in his left buttock.

.

_Three minutes later...._

.

The terrified cleric managed to pronounce them man and tyrant, at Wufei's insistence, without peeing all over himself despite the presence of a sharpened spork poking him in the throat. He only stuttered seven times through the entire four sentence ceremony, too.

Nervously, the yay-they're-married music skulked about the fringes of the chapel while Wufei surveyed the crowd with intense distaste. The crowd watched, wide eyed, as Wufei marched back down the aisle and through the rear doors with a single sniff of disdain. His new husband, the great Oz General Treize Khushrenada, limped after him with a spork stuck in his left butt cheek.


	24. Epilogue

_Whaaaa-BOOOM!_

Carefree, joyous laughter followed the sounds of the explosion's aftermath through the corridors of Lagrange, Baron J's manor, um, lab, affectionately called L1. Due to similar, and rather frequent, occurrences, L2 was nearly completed and plans for Ls 3 through 5 were in the making.

"When is this honeymoon mission of yours—that you refuse to abort, I might add—over so we can get rid of him, 01?"

There was a grunt. "Current projection is sixty years."

"Six- _sixty_ years? Have you lost your mind?"

Another grunt. "You are correct, Baron J. Life expectancies have gone up in industrialized nations like ours. I will revise it to eighty years."

A groan, as if in mortal agony, rolled through the lab. "He just blew up the southern part of the moat! My lab smells like a wet dog! Why are you _smiling_?!"

"I like to hear my baka laugh."

There were the sounds of someone choking, then gasping for breath. Finally, "Send a messenger to Khushrenada!"

"With the same—"

"Annette! Babe! You _rocked_ in _Muscle Beach Party_ last night! I did a little tweaking to your spare arm and now you got fingers, real fingers instead of those seriously creepy claw things. And look, isn't this cool? You point your index finger and whoosh! It goes off like a real gun. See?"

"Baka, what is that stuff?"

The cheerful laughter rang from the lab. "Silly string! I got him three cases of refills. I wanted to put in a coffee maker but I didn't know if the old guy could carry it while it was percolating. Not to mention that if he decided to tweak his beak while making coffee, the burns would not only be uber painful, but someone would have to apply burn cream and that's just really gross."

"Baka." This was said affectionately.

"Hee-chan, I'm horny!"

"Why me? Dear God, why me?" echoed the sound of something metallic, like a set of glinty goggles, repeatedly banging on a table.

.

_The next kingdom over...._

.

"Injustice!" The sounds of a slamming door followed by furious stomping accompanied that pronouncement. Another door slammed, probably into a wall.

"Chang, I specifically came here, _again_ , to see General Khushrenada, not _you_!"

"Silence, Dermail! Khushrenada is tied up and will remain so for the foreseeable future."

"You said that last time!"

"He was tied up last time as well. He's a very naughty tyrant."

A careful listener would have heard eyes blinking in utter shock. This was followed by spluttering.

"You, guard. Escort the Duke _out_."

A few moments later, the portcullis dropped down and the drawbridge slammed shut.

"You haven't heard the last of this, Chang!" But it was outside and faint, so it was ignored.

"Une, are there any messengers from Baron J still on the premises?"

"They're arriving daily now, sir."

"Good. Tell Baron J that Oz has decided to declare war on Romafellar since the Bartons dropped off the face of the planet and are no longer keeping Dermail sufficiently occupied. And since J's offered so, erm, _frequently_ , to help us in any war we might engage, ask him if he'd keep Dermail busy. Treize will sign the order as soon as I untie him from the bed."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Une?"

"Sir?"

"If you happen to catch that braided idiot on Oz, I would be _very_ amused if you would continue your plans to turn him into a girl." A self-satisfied air permeated the castle. "It would be justice."

.

_At the foot of the mountains...._

.

Herbert lumbered slowly through the undergrowth, looking for that blueberry bush he'd found a few weeks ago. It hadn't been quite as full as he'd liked, so he'd left it to ripen a bit more. His family might laugh, well, exile him, too, but he thought that there was nothing better than fresh berries with his salad. Add a little lemon poppyseed dressing, perhaps some melon with it, and he would be purring, well, if his vocal chords had been strung a bit differently he would be purring.

"Heeeeeeeeero!"

Herbert stopped, cocking his ear toward that curious noise.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

He left his pail near the blueberries and ambled toward the sound. It was a sweet, coloratura soprano that trilled with delicate yet somehow robust beauty along the higher registers. Herbert was quite the fan of opera and a well done aria could turn him directly into mush. Yet another thing he'd found himself exiled for. He pushed through the underbrush, into the edge of a field.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

And fell instantly and irrevocably in love.

She was gorgeous, and such an angel. Her hair, spun like the gold he slept upon, cascaded around her. Her eyes, richer than the sapphires hidden in his hoard, sparkled. Her skin, more luminous than the finest ivory he possessed, blushed faintly.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero!"

And that voice, oh that bewitching, beautiful voice.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeee—ack!" She'd spotted him, staring at him with her gem-like eyes widened and her breath coming quickly. The blush deepened. Was it too much to hope that she was as taken with him as he was with her? She _must_. He _loved_ her and it was fated that she love him in return. He could no longer regret being a vegetarian in a strict society of carnivores. He could no longer regret his diminished size amongst a society of behemoths. He could no longer regret his refined tastes amongst a society of brutes. He now had her. Fate had smiled upon him. She was his gift. His. She would share his love of quiche. She would sing his favorite arias while lovingly preening his scales. He would lavish her with all the treasures of his hoard.

Gently, he singed the ropes binding her to the fence, tenderly cradled her in his right front claw, then spread his leathery wings and carried them both off, deep into the mountains.

The End


End file.
